


Healing Wounds

by GreyHaven



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Consensual Kink, Declarations Of Love, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sex, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Whipping, have i got enough tags, it's angsty smut, or smutty angst, problematic cop stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 87,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27670637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyHaven/pseuds/GreyHaven
Summary: Nathan just wants a quiet lunch but he gets a call to go to the hospital because Duke is hurt.  He has no idea why he's Duke's emergency contact when they've barely spoken for years but he's going to do what he can to help.  Turns out that Duke needs more help than Nathan's expecting.  Will Duke accept the help that Nathan offers him or will he continue along the self destructive path he's on?Angsty, kinky, smut with eventual fluff.
Relationships: Duke Crocker/Nathan Wuornos
Comments: 201
Kudos: 44





	1. Nathan

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I know, it's been forever since I posted anything and I know I've told at least a gazillion people about this fic and finally, here it is! It's taken me 2.5 years to write and another 3 months to edit so I hope it was worth it. Huge thanks to all of you who have cheerleaded (cheerled?) and offered help and support and advice along the way. You know who you are. If you don't know if this applies to you, yes it does. And extra thanks to those of you who have talked me through the "this is shit, I should delete the whole file" phases because there have been many of them. Look, I didn't delete it! 
> 
> So here we are. My first solo long!fic.
> 
> Enjoy.

"Wuornos," Nathan barked into his phone, inwardly cursing the apparent inability of this town to go without a crisis long enough for him to take a simple lunch break.

"Mr. Nathan Wuornos?" A clipped and efficient voice came down the line.

"Yeah."

"Julia Carr here, I'm a doctor in the emergency room at Haven Regional. We have you listed as the emergency contact for Duke Crocker. Is that correct?"

Nathan hesitated. His first instinct was to say no. He didn’t know anything about being Duke’s emergency contact and, quite honestly, he wanted to avoid getting dragged into whatever mess Duke had gotten himself into this time. It was bound to be a mess, it always was with Duke. On the other hand, it occurred to him that Duke might actually have a reason for giving his name as a contact and maybe he should at least try to find out what that might be. He cleared his throat. "If that's what the paperwork says."

"Is that a yes or a no? Is there someone else I should be calling?"

There was no hesitation this time. "It's a yes. He ok?"

"He will be. I'll fill you in when you get here - ask for me at the desk."

"On my way." Nathan ended the call and strode out of his office. On his way out, he poked his head around Laverne's door. "Gotta head out for a while. Call me if anything comes up."

"Sure thing, hon." Laverne smiled but there was a glimmer of concern in her eyes which was understandable given that Nathan rarely took time off and never in the middle of a working day. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Nathan nodded once and strode away.

The streets were unusually quiet for a Saturday lunchtime; most of the residents of Haven seemed to have decided to make the most of the late September sun and head to the beach. Which would bring its own problems. Late night, alcohol fuelled beach parties that would inevitably require breaking up, plus several arrests for drunk and disorderly behaviour, and a holding cell full of vomit.

None of which was currently his problem because now - _now_ he had to go and deal with another Duke Crocker mess.

It was touch and go which problem Nathan would have preferred to be dealing with.

At least it was until the radio in the Bronco buzzed into life.

"Wuornos," Nathan sighed into the handset.

"Sorry, Nathan, hon, but you said to call you if anything came up." Laverne managed to sound apologetic even across the static of the radio.

"Not a problem, Laverne, what's going on?"

"The hospital just called to report an assault, victim sounds pretty beat up, doesn't want to press charges. Hospital’s hoping someone can change his mind."

"That's where I'm headed anyway. I'll look into it. Who do I need to speak to?"

"Dr. Carr in the ER."

 _Crap._ That was the same doctor who called him about Duke. The afternoon was going from bad to worse and Nathan would definitely prefer to be mopping up drunks than dealing with what was looking more and more like one big _mess._ "Ok, be there in a few. Can you mark me unavailable, this might take a while."

"Will do. And Nathan, hon? The victim. It's Duke Crocker, you sure you don't want me to send someone else?"

"I got it, Laverne. Thanks. Out." Nathan replaced the handset and swore loudly to himself.

Duke Crocker, one time friend and now mostly a thorn in Nathan's side (and that was being polite about it), had gotten himself assaulted. No doubt there would be some sort of story behind it, one that Duke wouldn't admit to and Nathan would have to use all of his detective skills just to get a vague idea of what actually happened. Of all the things he didn't want to spend his afternoon doing, persuading Duke to press charges was definitely top of the list.

Still...

Duke was badly injured enough that the hospital had called his next of kin. That meant that either he wasn't in a position to make decisions for himself, or that he actually _needed help._

Nathan swore again and put his foot down. Either way, Duke needed him.

*

Alone in the waiting room, Nathan paced. He was silently berating himself for not asking Dr. Carr for more details. All she'd said was that Duke would be fine and that told him precisely _nothing_ about how he actually was, or what he'd gotten mixed up in. Nathan had no idea what to expect or what he should be preparing himself for.

Questions ran through his mind. A hundred _what ifs._ More than a hundred _whys_ and _whats_ and _hows._ Wondering. Worrying.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he paced; ran his hand across his face as he worried about his old friend and why Duke was here, how badly he was hurt, and why the _hell_ he was listed as Duke’s next of kin when they’d barely spoken for years.

"Nathan Wuornos?" A dark haired woman interrupted his thoughts. "I'm Julia, Dr. Carr. Thanks for coming."

He shook her outstretched hand. “Doc. Care to fill me in?”

“Take a seat.” She gestured towards a chair but Nathan shook his head.

“I’m fine standing. What’s going on? I got a call from Dispatch to say he’d been assaulted.”

“Oh. Oh, you’re a cop? Sorry, I just assumed you were here as Duke’s emergency contact.”

“Here as both. How is he?”

“Guess that saves me going through things twice.” Julia gave an uneasy chuckle. “He’s ok, relatively speaking. He was brought in last night with a dislocated shoulder, three broken ribs and a fractured cheekbone. We’ve reduced his shoulder, the ribs and cheekbone will heal on their own.”

A muscle flickered in Nathan’s jaw and he unconsciously rubbed at it, scowling as he listened to her describe Duke’s injuries. 

“He has some nasty rope burns around his wrists, a split lip, and assorted bruises and marks. He’s fine, he doesn’t need to stay another night, but he has no way of getting himself home and, under the circumstances, I don’t feel happy just chucking him out the door.”

Nathan nodded, his scowl softening slightly. 

“When I told him he couldn’t go home on his own, he asked me to call his next of kin. He won’t tell us what happened or who did this to him, which is why I put a call in to the cops. So whichever capacity you’re here under, I’m hoping you can at least make sure he’s safe, that it isn’t his partner doing this to him, maybe try to get to the bottom of it.”

“His partner?”

“Injuries like he has… My guess - and it _is_ just a guess, albeit an educated one - is that he’s been suspended by his wrists and he’s fought to get free. A partner of some description is a distinct possibility.”

Nathan looked away, feeling sick. _God, Duke, what have you gotten yourself messed up in._

“He’s in room 410, down the hall, turn right. You’ll talk to him?”

“I’ll talk to him.” Nathan ran his hand across his face again, the stubble scraping under his palm.

“Good. You’re ok? I guess you deal with this sorta stuff a lot, but it’s different when it’s a friend.”

 _Friend._ It had been a lot of years since Nathan last considered Duke to be his friend. A lot of years and a lot of hurt. From physical fights to childish spats to half-joking comments that were designed to get a reaction, they’d done it all. But none of that mattered right now. Duke was in trouble and Nathan had to put all of that to one side and step up to help him.

He could only hope Duke would let him.

“I’m fine. Thanks, Doc.”

Julia nodded and briskly strode out of the small waiting room, leaving Nathan to find his way to Duke’s room alone.

*

The hospital corridor was white and overbright. Artificial lights flickered overhead which did precisely nothing to stop the hot, bitter nausea from rising in his throat as Julia’s words echoed round his head. _Suspended by his wrists. Fought to get free._ Dreadful, terrible images flashed through his mind, one after another after another, and he picked up his pace, striding towards the room in a desperate need to see Duke.

Room 410. He stopped outside and took a deep breath. He was a cop. He was used to dealing with assault victims. He could deal with this. Once he’d steeled himself, he tapped gently on the door.

“Duke? It’s Nathan.”

There was a mumbled response that didn’t sound like ‘go away’ (or other, less polite, alternatives) so Nathan opened the door and went inside.

Julia’s description of Duke’s injuries had in no way prepared him for the sight which greeted him. Duke was, in a word, battered. His cheek was bruised, purple deepening into black, swollen enough that his eye was almost completely closed. Even sitting in bed, he held himself stiffly. One arm was in a sling, the other he’d wrapped around himself protectively. Small, fingertip bruises dotted his neck and his voice was hoarse when he spoke.

“Nathan.” Duke attempted a tiny smile which was, honestly, heartbreaking. That Duke felt he had to make the effort to put a brave face on the pain he must be feeling, and that he clearly thought the arrival of Nathan was important enough to smile about.

“Duke. How’re you feeling?”

“I’ve been better.” Judging by the way Duke tried to chuckle and ended up wincing instead, that was the understatement of the century.

“Doc filled me in on your injuries. They given you enough pain meds?” 

“Yeah, it was…a lot worse before. Now I feel kinda…spacey…” Duke wavered the hand that wasn’t in a sling. “Spacey is good. I like spacey.”

“Spacey _is_ good.” Nathan managed a tiny smile as he moved the uncomfortable looking plastic chair beside the bed so he could sit facing Duke.

“Thanks. For coming. I wasn’t sure if you would.” The tinge of doubt in Duke’s voice clawed at Nathan’s heartstrings. Not that it was altogether surprising that Duke would doubt him; after all, Nathan had given him a hundred and one reasons to believe he hated him.

Something he was now bitterly regretting.

“Wouldn’t ignore a call from the hospital.” Nathan deliberately kept his face neutral, his voice soft. “Gotta admit I was surprised, though.”

“Yeah, sorry, I should’ve mentioned it.”

“‘S’fine. Just couldn’t work out why it was me.”

Duke gave him a twisted smile. “Who else would it have been?”

A hollow, sinking feeling settled deep in the pit of Nathan’s stomach. _Who else would it have been?_ All of Duke’s family were either dead or long since moved away and none of his friends had stuck around.

He had no one.

There _was_ no one else. 

Today it was just a call to come and take him home, make sure he was ok. It could just as easily have been a call asking him to make life or death medical decisions. After everything Nathan had done, all of the ways he showed Duke just how much he hated him, Duke still believed in him. Still considered him enough of a friend to trust him with this. 

Still counted on him when it mattered.

Nathan blushed slightly and cleared his throat. “Guess so.”

“I wouldn’t have called but they wouldn’t let me go home unless there was someone with me.”

“I know, Duke. ‘S’fine. I’m here.”

“Yeah.” Duke’s smile was soft and sweet and so totally unlike his usual sharp grin that Nathan was reminded of the boy he’d once been, back before life had knocked him down one too many times and he’d come up swinging.

“We’ll get you home, soon as the doc says you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Nate.” 

The use of his childhood nickname was another jolt. No one else ever called him that and it was a cutting reminder of their shared history. History that, perhaps, Nathan shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss when their friendship began to splinter.

“Anytime, Duke. There anything you need?”

Duke shook his head. “One of the nurses said she’d sort me out some scrubs to go home in.”

“What happened to your clothes?”

“They...are not here…” 

Nathan narrowed his eyes, trying to work out if Duke didn’t know where his clothes were or if he’d arrived without them. And, if so, what that might mean. “Can you tell me what happened?” 

“Oh, you know, something daring or heroic - possibly both. Saving a lost puppy from a cliff or swooping in and pulling a child out of the path of a speeding truck. That sort of thing.”

Nathan gritted his teeth and reminded himself that he was dealing with a _victim_ here, not just Duke being as evasive as ever. Apparently he hadn’t been too far wrong with his assumption that he was going to have to use all of his detective skills to get to the bottom of how and why Duke had gotten hurt. “Pretty sure that’s not what happened.”

Duke’s expression was deadpan, giving nothing away as he stared back at Nathan.

“You get yourself mixed up in something? Someone hurting you for revenge?”

“Yeah, I lost a kilo of cocaine I was moving for the Irish mob down in Boston when my pet unicorn ate it. I don't think they believe me.”

Nathan couldn't quite suppress a smile. “You got a licence for that pet unicorn?”

Duke laughed and immediately grimaced. 

“Ok?” Nathan frowned.

Duke nodded. “Laughing is not good for broken ribs.”

“Take it easy, Duke.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t speak the word so much as breathed it out.

They lapsed into silence after that - a silence that was caught somewhere between awkwardness and comfortable familiarity - and when Duke closed his eyes, it gave Nathan the chance to study him while he rested.

There was a pallor to his skin. Perhaps it was just down to the harsh hospital lighting and pale gown he was wearing, but there were also dark circles under his eyes which hadn’t been obvious when Nathan first saw him, overshadowed as they were by the more vivid bruises. He was wrecked. Nathan couldn’t help but wonder if there was more going on than whatever had happened last night.

Not that he was ever likely to find out because, even with the effects of the pain medication, Duke was still chippily defensive, his barriers still firmly intact and there was no way in hell Nathan was going to get through them. At least not any time soon. 

There was a scuffle of footsteps outside the door. Duke’s eyes flew open and he immediately tensed, ready to react to a threat. It was a stark reminder that even in a hospital, with a cop - with his _friend -_ by his side, Duke still didn’t feel safe. Maybe he didn’t ever feel safe.

“Mr. Crocker.” A nurse came in and greeted him with a smile. She was plump with greying hair and a motherly air about her. “How are you feeling now?”

“Fine,” Duke said quickly. _“Please_ tell me I can go home, Angie?”

Angie chuckled. “Yes, Duke, you can go home.” She passed him a paper bag. “Pain medication. Two pills, four times a day, at least four hours apart.”

“Thanks.” Duke took the bag from her, visibly more relaxed now he knew he was going home.

“You’ll make sure he takes them?” Angie turned to Nathan, the smile fading from her face.

“Uh, yeah,” Nathan replied, frowning slightly because he had _no idea_ how he was going to check that Duke was taking his medication.

Duke rolled his eyes. “Hey. Despite appearances, I am actually a responsible adult and I can manage to take a couple of pills on my own.”

Angie chuckled again. “Ok, point taken, but still, you’re injured and the more your partner can help you, the better.”

“He’s not -” Duke started to say at exactly the same time as Nathan spoke.

“We’re not -” Nathan said.

They both laughed awkwardly, with Angie looking at them expectantly.

“We’re just friends,” Nathan finished. It felt good to say that again after so many years. _Friends._ Of a sort, anyway.

“Oh! Oh, sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.” The smile was back on Angie’s face. Nathan had the impression that she’d thought that maybe he’d been the one to do this to Duke.

“No problem.” Nathan gave her a tiny smile and rubbed the back of his neck.

Duke looked as if he was trying hard not to laugh as Angie passed him a set of hospital scrubs and slippers.

“You need some help changing into those?” she asked him kindly.

“No, I got it, thanks Angie.” Duke flashed her as much of a grin as he could manage around the bruises and split lip.

Angie patted his uninjured arm. “Ok. You take good care of yourself, you hear? We don’t want to see you again any time soon.”

“I will do.”

“Good.” Angie patted his arm again and bustled out of the door.

Duke swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a moment, his good hand pressed against his ribs, pain etched in deep lines on his face.

“Ok?” Nathan asked. “You want me to wait outside?”

“I'm good. And no, you're fine, maybe just turn your back.”

Nathan obliged him, turning around to read the information posters which were taped to the wall - nothing he didn’t already know about basic first aid, but it gave him a distraction from the scuffles and barely stifled sounds of pain that Duke was making.

“Sure you’re ok?” he asked after Duke let out what could only be described as a growl.

“I’m _fine.”_ There was a sharp edge of frustration in Duke’s voice so clearly he _wasn’t_ fine. “Can you -? _Why_ do these fucking things always do up in the back?”

Nathan glanced over and suppressed a laugh. Duke was trying to contort himself to reach the last tie on the hospital gown. Somehow, he’d managed to wriggle into the scrub bottoms but trying to undo knots one handed was a step too far.

“You need me to…?”

“Yeah.” Duke sighed and let his hand drop away. 

Nathan leaned across to untie the last knot that Duke couldn’t reach. “Done.”

“Thanks,” Duke muttered. He seemed, if it were possible, even more uncomfortable than before. Tense in a way he hadn’t been earlier. The reason for which became apparent as soon as he started to slide the hospital gown off.

Stark, red stripes criss-crossed his back. Some had broken the skin, others had bruised, and there were older marks, already well healed but still faintly visible under the right light.

“Duke,” Nathan said softly.

“What?”

“Who did this to you?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Matters to me.”

Duke paused in his efforts to get the gown the rest of the way off without having to remove his sling. “I told the doc I didn’t want the cops involved and I’m sticking to that.”

“Ok, Duke.” Nathan gave him a smile. “You want some help with that? I think you’re gonna have to take the sling off.”

“Yeah.” Duke seemed to almost deflate as he sat quietly and let himself be helped.

Nathan worked briskly but gently to get Duke out of the gown. Dark bruises covered his ribs, blacks and blues and purples all fading into one another. One stood out. It had a grid-like pattern and curved edges. A rush of nausea flooded through Nathan. It was unmistakably the imprint from the sole of a boot. Someone had kicked Duke. Or stamped on him when he was on the ground. Hard enough to break his ribs and leave a _fucking boot imprint_ on his skin. Nathan wanted to do the same to them, whoever it had been.

But he couldn’t. Duke didn’t want the cops involved. He couldn’t do anything.

Except help.

So he picked up the scrub top and helped Duke into it, tactfully ignoring his grimaces and barely stifled sounds of pain. Once Duke was dressed and back in the sling, Nathan sat beside him.

“So. Asking as your friend here and not a cop. What happened, Duke? You’re -”

“A mess. I know.” Duke glanced across, an almost pleading look in his eyes, silently begging Nathan not to make him say it.

“Doc seems to think it was your partner. Is that it? Are you safe?”

Duke nodded. “It’s not a relationship, more of an...arrangement.”

“So just a sex game gone wrong?”

Duke nodded again, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“Consensual?” Nathan asked gently.

Duke shrugged with his good shoulder. “At first.”

“Duke,” Nathan murmured. His heart hurt with a deep, physical pain. He wanted to find the person who had violated Duke’s trust in such an intimately awful way and pay them back a hundredfold. But he couldn’t. His only hope was that Duke would change his mind and decide to press charges. “Thanks. For telling me.”

“Could we - can we maybe just leave it now? I _really_ don’t want to talk about it any more than you want to hear about it.”

“Yeah.” Nathan gave him a small smile. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”


	2. Duke

_ Home.  _ Home sounded really fucking good to Duke. He sprang to his feet and immediately regretted it as pain shot through him. His ribs burned, his shoulder ached, and he wasn’t entirely certain he didn’t have a concussion from the blow that had cracked his cheekbone. His head was spinning. Or, more accurately, the room was spinning. And the floor was lurching. Duke felt very, very sick. He stood still, found a fixed point to stare at until the dizziness passed, and tried to convince himself that it was all just a side effect of the pain meds. 

Nathan was hovering beside him, his hand right by Duke’s elbow. He wanted to pull away, to tell Nathan that he was fine, he could manage.

He didn’t.

Because he wasn't entirely sure that he  _ was  _ fine.

So he tolerated the hovering as they navigated the hospital corridors and restricted his complaints to the occasional glare when Nathan got  _ too fussy.  _ If Nathan asked once more if he was ok, Duke thought he might actually throw something - or, actually, probably not, given that one arm was in a sling and he needed the other to compensate for his complete lack of balance, but the sentiment was there.

And this…? This  _ fussing _ was exactly why he hadn’t wanted Nathan to see just how badly battered he was, but getting dressed with one arm had proven to be close to fucking impossible. He probably should have accepted Angie’s offer of help. Then he could have avoided Nathan having to rescue him because he’d gotten himself into a mess.

But then that would have meant admitting he needed help and that was something that he very much preferred not to do. At least not until he  _ really  _ had to.

By the time they reached Nathan’s truck in the parking lot, it came as a welcome relief. Duke was in far more pain than he was letting on and he leaned against the truck with his eyes closed, desperately willing the nausea back down. He was absolutely, definitely not going to puke in front of Nathan.

Nathan quickly unlocked the door and pulled it open. “You gonna be ok getting in?” He was frowning and obviously  _ concerned.  _

Duke had to grit his teeth to stop himself from insisting that he was  _ injured,  _ he wasn’t a child, he was perfectly capable of getting into a truck without help. 

“Yeah.” He swung himself inside, albeit with slightly less grace than he would’ve managed had he not been injured.

After Nathan closed the door for him, Duke buckled the seat belt around himself, thanking his lucky stars that he hadn’t injured his dominant arm because that would have made this whole thing a million times worse.

Nathan climbed in beside him and started the engine. “You need to stop off anywhere on the way home?”

“Like this?” Duke gestured at his  _ incredibly unfashionable  _ new outfit, which was - admittedly - an improvement on the gown he’d been wearing. “No. Thanks. I’ll go and pick up my truck and stuff tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? You - are you sure you’ll be ok to drive by tomorrow?” Nathan gave him a sideways glance.

Duke cursed inwardly because he was actually making a very valid point. “I’ll manage.”

Another sideways glance from Nathan before he nodded and pulled out of the parking garage, seemingly accepting Duke’s insistence that he could somehow walk across to the other side of town, face the guy who’d done this to him, get his stuff back, and drive his truck home. Which might be a bit of a tall order, now that Duke came to think of it. Still, he really didn’t want Nathan involved and there wasn’t anyone else he could ask. So that was that. He’d manage. 

Because if there was one damn thing he was good at, it was managing. 

They drove in silence which was, in Duke’s opinion, an improvement on fussing. __ He took a moment to be grateful that at least Nathan wasn’t being judgy about the whole thing. Well, he probably  _ was _ , but at least he hadn’t  _ said anything  _ about it which was a step forwards from pretty much every other time Duke had given him anything to be judgy about.

He’d considered lying; coming up with some sort of bullshit excuse just to throw Nathan off the case. (And seriously, couldn’t he stop being a cop for five fucking minutes?) But once Nathan saw the state of his back - and Duke was under no illusions that it looked as bad as it felt, he knew that much from past experience - lying wasn’t an option.

Besides, Nathan hadn’t actually made him say it. He’d gotten to the conclusion all on his own. Not that it was a huge leap, given his injuries, but still, Duke had to give him a certain amount of begrudging appreciation that he was an  _ annoyingly  _ good cop. And he’d dropped it as soon as Duke. So maybe - just maybe - he really was there as Nathan-Duke’s-friend and not Detective-Do-Right-Wuornos.

Duke was grateful that the drive home didn’t take long. Every bump and pothole and bend in the road was agonising. He tried to hide it, to keep his expression neutral, but it must have shown on his face because Nathan muttered an apology every time the truck so much as wobbled.

When the Rouge came into view, Duke couldn’t quite suppress a sigh of relief.

Nathan had barely pulled on the parking brake before he leapt out of the truck and raced around to open Duke’s door. It was kind of sweet that he was determined to be so helpful.

“Got your keys?” he asked once Duke was out of the truck and standing (mostly steadily) on his feet again.

“Uh...no…”

“Where are they?”

“They…are in the same place as my clothes.”

“Right.” Nathan nodded slowly. “So how were you planning on getting in?”

“Spare keys.”

“And where are the spare keys?” Nathan gazed back at him with raised eyebrows.

“They are... somewhere.” 

“Duke, where are your spare keys,” Nathan said patiently. Too patiently. He had that tone of voice he got when he was close to snapping. 

Duke had to admire his restraint because even he realised he was being fairly obstructive and unhelpful. Which wasn't entirely  _ deliberate,  _ it was just that he  _ really  _ didn't want Haven PD to know where the keys to his boat were and he particularly didn't want  _ Nathan _ to know where they were, given his tendency to assume Duke was involved in every tiny little crime that happened in Haven and his ability to ignore such tiny little things as search warrants when it came to investigating those crimes.

So obstructive and unhelpful it was, and that was a role he was very,  _ very,  _ good at. Expert at, in fact.

He was about to make a snarky comment when the sun glinted off the windshield of a car that was moving slowly along the harbour. At that time of day, it could only be one person. Beattie. Duke would really prefer that she didn’t see him in this state because she would ask questions that he didn’t have answers prepared for.

He groaned. “Small box under the tarp,” he said, waving his good arm in the general direction.

Nathan rummaged for a moment before he emerged with the spare set of keys and a look on his face that was either triumphant or smug.

Duke couldn’t decide which it was but either way, he was going to have to find a new hiding place for his keys. Just as soon as he felt up to it.

The second Nathan opened the door, Duke slipped inside and breathed a sigh of relief. He breathed another one when Nathan closed the door behind them and passed him the keys.

_ Home.  _

At-fucking-last.

That had been a long-ass night which had very much not gone according to plan. He was contemplating how much of a bad idea it would be to open a bottle of whisky when he realised Nathan had said something.

“Sorry, missed that,” he said, attempting an innocent smile in case Nathan had been able to read his thoughts. He was under no illusions that Nathan would have  _ a lot  _ to say on the subject of mixing alcohol with pain meds and that was a conversation he would really rather not have.

“Asked if you needed anything. Coffee?”

“Oh. Uh. Yeah, thanks, it’s -”

“I’ll find it,” Nathan interrupted him. “Go sit down.”

Duke did what he was told and tried to work out whether he felt uncomfortable about Nathan pottering around in his kitchen in search of coffee. He thought he probably should but honestly...? The sheer relief of not having to do it for himself was outweighing any sense of unease he might have felt.

After a few minutes (and some muttered curses), Nathan emerged from the kitchen with two mugs of coffee.

“Cream, one sugar, that still right?”

“Yeah, thanks. How’d you -?”

“Long memory.” Nathan gave him a little smile and sat down beside him. “You gonna be ok, Duke?”

He actually sounded like he cared.  __ And that…? That was not computing for Duke because Nathan  _ didn’t care -  _ well, actually, he did, he cared a lot, just not about  _ him. _ Not recently, anyway.

“I’ll be fine. You know me, Nate, I’m always fine.”

“Yeah. I do know you. So I’ll ask again. You gonna be ok?”

Which was a callout that Duke really did not appreciate right then. Not when all he wanted to do was  _ fall apart.  _ He couldn’t. He couldn’t let himself think too deeply about this whole fucking thing because if he did - 

If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to put himself back together again.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll rest and take my meds and try not to get into any more trouble anytime soon.”

“Ok.”

Nathan seemed to accept that answer but Duke got the feeling that he’d want to revisit the subject in the very near future because he wasn’t actually asking about whether Duke was going to be  _ physically  _ ok.

Duke wasn’t even remotely ready to have that conversation.

He probably never would be.

“Should, uh. You’re probably gonna need some help getting changed,” Nathan said, tactfully averting his eyes from Duke’s.

He had a point. A very, very, fucking good point. Getting  _ into  _ the scrubs had been difficult enough with help, getting out of them was inevitably going to be just as difficult and at least Nathan already knew about his injuries.

“...Uh...yeah…”

“Got a pair of scissors? Be easier than trying to pull that top over your head again.”

And that - that was a  _ very sensible _ suggestion. It was practical. Practical was good. It meant that Duke didn't have to think about the awkwardness that was Nathan-fucking-Wuornos undressing him.

So he nodded. “Drawer next to the sink, left hand side,” he said. “I'll - gimme a minute to sort out some clothes.”

Nathan nodded in return and sipped his coffee.

Duke left him to it and went into the bedroom, clutching his ribs as he did so. He’d forgotten just how much broken ribs  _ hurt.  _ It wasn’t just that they hurt, it was that every movement aggravated them and even  _ breathing _ was uncomfortable, let alone trying to walk. None of which was helped by the fact that his head was fuzzy. He felt slow. Slow was very not good. Slow was  _ vulnerable.  _

If there was one thing Duke hated, it was feeling vulnerable.

Especially around other people.

The sooner he could get Nathan out of there, the better. Then he could lock up, safe behind inches-thick steel with a weapon at hand, and he could relax, let himself  _ be. _

He could heal. 

And sleep. Because he was  _ really fucking tired.  _

None of which was happening until he changed out of the gods-awful scrubs he was currently wearing. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants from a drawer and wriggled out of the scrub bottoms and into the sweatpants, taking a moment to thank the yoga-gods that he was flexible enough to manage the operation with only one working arm. Then he pulled a loose, button up shirt from the closet and went back out to the lounge where he found Nathan fiddling with the scissors in a manner that would have been vaguely threatening if Duke hadn’t known him well enough to know that it was just a nervous habit.

“Ready to tear my clothes off, then, Nate?” He grinned.

Nathan looked up, one eyebrow raised, and glared at him for a moment before he dropped his gaze with a wry smile and a shake of his head. “You’re an asshole, Duke,” he said with just a hint of laughter in his voice.

“Yeah,” Duke agreed, still grinning.

Nathan rolled his eyes. “Sit down. Shut up.”

“Shut up? When have you ever known me to shut up?”

Nathan rolled his eyes again but laughed this time. “Shut up, Duke.”

Laughter. Laughter was good. Two friends joking around. Nothing awkward in that so Duke did what he was told and sat down.

As soon as he was settled, Nathan started cutting. He was gentle, careful, which was...almost surprising. Not that Duke thought Nathan would be anything except careful but there was something very close to tenderness in his actions as he snipped the scrub top away and murmured apologies every time the metal of the scissors so much as brushed Duke’s skin.

Safe in his hands, Duke kept still, calm and quiet, and stared down at the table as Nathan worked until, a few short minutes later, the scrub top fell away.

“Bad arm first,” Nathan instructed him as he picked up Duke’s shirt.

Duke gradually eased it out of the sling with Nathan’s free hand under his elbow to take the weight of his arm and keep the pressure off his shoulder.

Some manoeuvring later and Duke was in his shirt with his arm safely back in the sling. He deftly did up the popper buttons one handed, not bothering to check how neatly they were done, and looked up, accidentally catching Nathan’s eye as he did so. 

He immediately dropped his gaze away and cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks, for...you know…”

“Anytime, Duke.” Maybe it was Duke’s imagination, maybe he really was concussed or the effects of the pain pills hadn’t worn off, but Nathan sounded  _ genuine.  _ “Anything else you need? Something to eat maybe?”

“No. No, I’m good. Thanks,” Duke said quickly. The thought of Nathan trying to prepare food in his kitchen was a step too far. Coffee was one thing, food was quite another and he’d had enough  _ weirdness  _ for one day.

Nathan frowned a little but didn’t say anything, just stood up and went into the kitchen. He returned with a jug of water and a glass which he set on the coffee table, then he straightened the cushions and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch. He folded it and placed it neatly on the centre seat. He stood up and gestured for Duke to come and sit down in the little nest he’d made.

His expression was so hopeful that Duke obediently went to settle on the couch. He’d been planning to anyway, once Nathan left, and it didn’t do any harm to let Nathan see that he was resting and behaving himself. Or at least that’s what he told himself as he let out a contented sigh and made himself comfortable.

“Ok?” Nathan checked, passing him the television remote. “Sure you don’t need anything else?”

“No, thanks, I'm all set.” Duke smiled as best he could.

Nathan studied him for a moment, his gaze intense, almost piercing, before he turned away and bent down to reach beneath the coffee table.

“Nathan, don’t.” Duke couldn’t keep the sharp edge of panic from his voice. 

Nathan ignored him and a moment later there was a ripping sound as he tore the gun free from the tape that was holding it to the underside of the table. He checked the safety was on and the gun was loaded before he placed it on the arm of the couch beside Duke. “Want me to pop back later with some dinner? Save you trying to cook.”

Duke thought about that for a moment before he shook his head. “I'll be fine, I've got some leftovers I can reheat, no cooking involved.”

“Got my number. Call if you need anything.” He actually sounded like he meant it and there was a sincerity in his expression that Duke hadn't seen for years. At least, not aimed at him. 

“Yeah. Thanks Nate. For today.”

“Anytime, Duke.” Nathan smiled, warm and soft, without the bitter edge Duke was used to seeing. “Take care of yourself.” With that, he turned and left, carefully closing the door behind him so it latched securely. 

Duke stared after him for a moment before he hobbled over to bolt the door. Then he returned to the couch. The nest. The nest that Nathan had made him on the couch, complete with a loaded weapon. Which was...well, Duke didn’t really know what it was. Surprising. That’s what it was. That Nathan had just done it without being asked, and without a word.

In fact, everything about Nathan had been surprising. The fact he’d turned up at all (and Duke really hadn’t been sure that he would), and how not-judgy he’d been. The care he’d taken of Duke; everything from helping him with getting dressed to making sure he was comfortable and had a means of protecting himself should the need arise.

It gave him something else to think about, something to take his mind off the total clusterfuck the previous night had turned into. Because that was something he really, really, didn’t want to think about.

Nope, far safer to think about Nathan weirdness than anything else.

So Duke resigned himself to an afternoon of truly terrible television and refused to think too deeply about any of it.

He was dozing on the couch when there was a knock at the door. By the time he'd pulled himself to his feet and made his way across the room to open the door, there was no one there.

There was, however, a takeout box from the Gull with a note scrawled across the top in black marker.

_ Haven't poisoned it - N _

Duke laughed to himself and settled back on the couch to eat.

At some point after that, he must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, he was woken by another knock at the door and the morning light was streaming through the portholes.

Once again, there was no one there by the time he opened the door.

This time, there was a takeout box alongside a bag which contained his clothes, phone and keys, and his truck was parked right beside the Rouge.

Duke put his phone onto charge and tucked into the box of waffles before he sent Nathan a one word message.

_ Thanks. _


	3. Nathan

Nathan read Duke’s single word message and smiled. It had been a long night tracking down Duke’s truck. He’d effectively been on duty for close to twenty four hours so, after a final check in with Dwight, he clocked out and went home to bed where he tossed and turned until he managed to grab a couple of hours of fitful sleep.

Two days later, he knocked on the hatch of the Rouge with a bag of pastries tucked under his arm and a carrier of takeout coffee in his hand.

There was no answer. It crossed Nathan’s mind that Duke might not actually be here. Although  _ where  _ he might be was a different question, given that Nathan knew he wasn't at the Gull and his truck was parked exactly where Nathan left it the other morning.

Just as he was about to give up and walk away, there was a metallic scrape as the bolts were undone. The hatch opened a crack and the barrel of a gun emerged.

Nathan raised one eyebrow. “Really, Duke? I brought coffee and you pull a gun on me?”

Duke peered around the now half open door. He was pale beneath the still-colourful bruises and his face was pinched, his eyes heavy. 

“Well  _ obviously  _ I didn’t know it was you or no, I wouldn’t be pointing a gun at you. Maybe you should’ve, I dunno, let me know you were coming or something.”

“You’d’ve said you weren’t here.”

Duke scoffed but lowered the gun and moved away from the door. “Yeah, probably.”

Nathan took that as an invitation to come in. He brushed past Duke, put everything he was carrying down on the table, then took off his jacket and sat down.

Duke watched him with an expression that was somewhere between completely baffled and seething anger at having his space invaded like that.

Nathan braced himself for an onslaught. “Brought coffee,” he pointed out to try to head it off. “And bear claws.”

Duke looked as though he wanted to ask  _ why _ and, really, that would have been a fair question given that they’d barely exchanged two civil words in the past few years. Which, Nathan had come to realise, was entirely  _ his fault.  _

So he waited, patiently, while Duke decided not to question it and sat down opposite him.

“Uh. Thanks.”

Nathan smiled and slid a coffee across the table. “It’s from Black House. Just asked ‘em for your usual.”

Duke nodded, seemingly lost for words.

Nathan opened the paper bag and took a bear claw for himself, then slid the bag across the table too. “How’re you doing?” he mumbled around a mouthful of pastry.

“Fine.” Duke was staring down at the table and tapping his fingers lightly on the wood as though he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“Really?”

“Really fine.” Duke looked up and met Nathan’s gaze. There was a glint of defiance in his eyes, daring Nathan to challenge him, and there was a hardness to him. Not that Duke was ever soft, exactly, but he was usually at least amiable, when he wasn’t deliberately goading Nathan into a reaction. This was different. This was something Nathan couldn’t easily recognise.

Still, his injuries were healing, the bruises fading into blue and green, less swollen now. He was moving more freely and Nathan was relieved to see he hadn’t ditched the sling at the earliest opportunity.

But he looked  _ tired.  _ Strung out. Brittle. As though he might  _ break  _ if someone so much as said the wrong word to him.

In short, he looked like he was a man on the edge.

Of what, Nathan didn’t know.

“Good.” Nathan let it go. Fine was not an accurate assessment of Duke’s current state but calling him on it would just lead to an argument and that wasn’t what he’d come here for.

Duke fiddled with his coffee cup briefly before he finally took a sip. “Thanks. For getting my stuff back.”

“No problem,” Nathan replied easily.

“How’d you do it?” Duke sounded sharp now, a flash of anger in his eyes. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but I said I didn’t want the cops involved.”

And that explained everything, why there was such an edge to Duke, why he’d answered the door with a gun instead of a hello. He was pissed, yes, but beneath that he was scared. Not of Nathan but of any possible reprisals from the actions he thought Nathan had taken.

“I didn’t. Not like you’re thinking,” Nathan hedged, even though he knew Duke had a fair point and that he needed more of an answer than that.

Sure enough, Duke’s eyebrows rose in an unspoken question and he made a little gesture with his hand that invited Nathan to continue.

“Drove around town ‘til I saw your Land Rover. Knocked on every door nearby. Said we’d had complaints and I was trying to find the owner before we towed it.”

“And that worked?” Duke’s expression was one of pure disbelief, echoed in the tone of his voice.

“Clearly.”

“So you didn’t…?”

“Question him? No. He turned white as a sheet, said he had some of your stuff, told me where to find you, slammed the door in my face.”

Duke relaxed, clearly satisfied with the explanation, and started to eat his bear claw. “Thanks,” he said after he’d swallowed. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t go behind my back like that.”

Nathan shrugged. “Not like I’ve given you any reason to trust me. Recently, anyway.”

“Yeah, no, you’ve been kind of an ass.” There was a hint of a smile on Duke’s lips. He was entirely correct with that statement and he obviously knew it. 

In fact, Nathan would go so far as to say that he’d been a total ass, not just kind of an ass.

“Hoping I can put that right.”

Duke nodded. “This is a good start.”

“Bear claws and coffee?” Nathan smiled ruefully. “Kinda think it’ll take more than that.”

“Yeah, I kinda meant everything. You took care of me the other day and that - that’s not  _ nothing,  _ Nate.” 

Nathan nodded because Duke was right. It wasn’t nothing, the same as being listed as Duke’s emergency contact wasn’t nothing. And that meant there was some sort of friendship left that could be salvaged.

If Duke would let him.

“So how’d you end up with that asshole, Duke? ‘Cause I gotta say, you could do better.”

Duke laughed, high and bright and surprised. “Wow, that almost sounded like a compliment, Nate.”

Heat rose to Nathan’s cheeks. “Didn’t mean it like that. Doesn’t mean it isn’t true, though.”

“Maybe. But it’s Haven, there’s not a lot of choice, if you get my meaning. In fact, it’s pretty much limited to two. One doesn’t take it far enough, the other takes it too far.”

“This isn’t the first time it’s happened, is it?” Nathan knew the answer but he had to ask, had to have his suspicions confirmed.

Duke shook his head and stared down at the table again.

“You thought about pressing charges?” Nathan asked as gently as possible.

“For what? A - how did you put it, again? - a sex game gone wrong?”

“It was assault, Duke. Sexual or otherwise. You were badly hurt. That really what you consented to?”

Duke shrugged and hunched in on himself.

“Is it me you’d rather not talk to? Could get someone else to take a statement. Dwight or Rafferty or Stan, whoever you’d be most comfortable with.”

“It’s not that.”

“So what is it? ‘Cause I gotta admit I’m worried about you.”

Duke kept his eyes firmly on the table, not answering.

“Any attachment to this guy? Some sort of hold over you?” 

Duke slammed his coffee cup down onto the table with impressive violence and glared at Nathan. “It’s just a kink. Nothing more, nothing less. Drop it.”

“Really? Being beaten half to death is ‘just a kink’?”

“What the fuck do you want me to say? I get off on pain, Nate. He took it too far. End of. So now you know. Can we drop it? Please.” Duke’s expression shuttered, everything about him screaming  _ stay away from me.  _

The realisation hit Nathan like a brick. Duke  _ knew  _ this guy, had already said that this wasn’t the first time things had gotten out of hand. That meant that either the guy had convinced Duke that he’d changed (an option that Nathan immediately dismissed because Duke didn’t trust  _ anyone  _ enough to believe that) or that he was  _ actively seeking out _ the possibility of being misused.

Nathan felt sick. “Duke,” he said softly. “Ok, I’m sorry. Shouldn’t’ve pushed.”

Duke nodded.

“Thanks. For being honest with me.”

Duke nodded again. 

Nathan could have kicked himself. All he’d managed to achieve was to make Duke clam up and once he went like this, Nathan knew there was no easy way back from it. Duke was one wrong word - one wrong  _ look  _ \- away from lashing out.

“As a cop, hope you press charges, let me nail this guy. As your friend...Just stay safe, Duke. Don’t wanna be called to ID your body next time.”

Duke looked at him sharply, meeting Nathan’s eyes for long enough that it was uncomfortable before he looked away. “You know me, Nate, I’m not that easy to kill.” 

His tone was off. That should have been a throwaway line, delivered with a hint of laughter or an easy grin. Not the  _ flatness  _ with which Duke said it. And there was a minute flinch, a tiny flicker of eyelashes that wouldn’t have been noticeable if Nathan hadn’t been paying attention. Duke was - unusually for him - on the back foot. 

“I mean it, Duke. Whatever you get up to behind closed doors is your business. Just want you to be safe.”

“Thank you  _ so much  _ for your approval, Nathan.” Duke’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and he grinned bitterly. “That’s really - that’s just what I needed to help me feel better about my lifestyle choices.”

“Maybe if you need to feel better about your lifestyle choices, you need to consider that they aren’t the best choices to be making,” Nathan said quietly.

Duke laughed, hollow and brittle and completely without humour. “Did you - did you actually just  _ say that?”  _

Nathan lifted his jaw defiantly. “Yeah. And I stand by it. It makes you happy, great, do whatever it is. If it doesn’t…”

“And what the fuck would you know about it? You’ve never made a bad choice in your life, you’ve never - you’ve never been in a position where you’ve had to make choices you didn’t like just to get something you need and you - you think you can lecture me about fucking  _ lifestyle choices?”  _

That wasn’t strictly accurate but Nathan wasn’t about to argue the point. “So why do it? Why put yourself through that?”

“Because I’m  _ broken,  _ Nathan. I like kink and danger and pain and I am  _ fucked up.  _ And that’s fine, that’s my shit to deal with, but you don’t get to judge me. Not for that.”

“Like or need?”

“Are you - do you really want to argue semantics right now?”

Nathan shrugged. “You said  _ need _ a minute ago and  _ like _ just now. Which is it?”

“Fine. Need. Happy now?” Duke slumped back in his seat, defeated.

“Not judging you, Duke.”

“Y’know what? Whatever. Just leave, Nathan. Believe me, anything you have to say, I don’t want to hear. I’ve heard it all before, about how I’m disgusting and damaged and I should be ashamed of myself. So we’ll just assume you said it, and you can walk away and forget I exist.”

The words hit Nathan like a sucker punch to the gut. Duke thought so little of himself that his immediate reaction was to assume that he’d be judged; that Nathan would be disgusted by him and wouldn’t want anything to do with him. Nathan couldn’t help but wonder just how much his actions had contributed to that belief.

Duke clearly trusted him; still considered him a friend, even after everything. But Nathan - 

The moment things had soured between them, Nathan had dropped their friendship like a brick. He’d turned on Duke. He’d gone so far as to be highly disparaging about Duke, to his face, on more than one occasion. And that was without taking into account all of the arrests and all of the unwarranted searches of the Rouge and the Gull. Even all of the not-entirely-valid parking tickets.

In short, he’d treated Duke like shit.

A muscle flickered in Nathan’s jaw. He rubbed at it as he tried to work out if there was any possible way back from this and how he might put things right. Maybe he couldn’t change anything for Duke but he could be a better friend.

“Not walking away, Duke,” he said eventually. “I’m - I’m your friend and I’m sorry someone said that to you. Whoever it was had no right. Not to say it. Not to treat you like that. You’re none of those things and you deserve better than this shit you’ve been putting up with. Just want you to know that.”

Duke laughed bitterly. “Yeah, no, see, I do know that, the problem is that apparently no one else does.”

“Everyone else is a dick then.” Nathan gave him a half smile.

“You including yourself in that?” Duke’s laugh was more genuine this time and his smile reached his eyes.

“Yeah.”

While Duke might have been joking, in Nathan’s opinion that question needed a serious answer because he  _ had  _ been a dick. A complete asshole, in fact. It didn’t hurt to acknowledge that.

Duke raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Nathan Wuornos, Detective Do Right, is admitting he was a dick?”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, don’t rub it in.”

“Oh, I’m not rubbing it in, I’m just committing this moment to memory because I want to replay it for the rest of my life.”

“You know you’re not as funny as you think you are?”

“Shut up, Nate, I’m hilarious and you know it.”

Nathan couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking his head slightly. “Fine, you’re funny, happy now?”

“Uh, I’m more than happy, I’m fucking delighted.”

Nathan laughed. A few words and it was like old times; like things had been before he’d fucked everything up. 

They sipped their coffee and talked about nothing in particular. It was friendly. Easy. Comfortable.

“Should get outta here,” Nathan said, standing up after he’d drained the last of his coffee.

“Yeah, guess you’re technically on duty.” Duke’s eyes flicked pointedly to the badge on Nathan’s belt.

“Kinda.” Nathan grinned ruefully. “I’ll, uh. I’ll close the report. Just wanted to make sure you were ok first.”

Duke nodded as he rose to his feet. “Thanks,” he said, the hint of a smile on his lips. “I, uh. I appreciate you checking on me.”

He followed Nathan across to the door. Nathan knew why. He knew Duke was going to draw the bolts as soon as the door was closed. His heart broke that Duke didn’t feel safe. Even in his own home, the one place he should have been able to relax and just  _ be  _ and he couldn’t do that without bolted doors and weapons stashed in every corner.

In a wild moment of impulse, Nathan hugged him. Duke tensed, went rigid against him with his shoulders trembling. Nathan was about to let go and mumble an apology when Duke relaxed into him and curled his free arm around Nathan’s back.

“Look after yourself, Duke,” Nathan murmured.

Duke nodded and pulled away, giving Nathan his cue to leave.

Sure enough, he heard the metallic scrape of the bolts being closed as soon as Duke shut the hatch behind him.

Nathan drove back to the station. Nothing Duke had said had done anything to put his mind at rest. If anything, he was more worried than before. He could have kicked himself for not realising sooner that Duke was so emotionally compromised. He should have seen it. He should have been a better friend. But he hadn’t. Even worse, he’d contributed to how awful Duke felt about himself now. That was something he was going to have to own his part in and try to put right.

Not that he knew how to do that.

The one thing he did know was that there would be a next time. Duke wasn’t going to stop doing this; he wasn’t going to stop seeking out what he needed. This time, he was ok, figuratively speaking. His injuries would heal.

But next time?

Next time it could be worse. That was something Nathan didn’t even want to contemplate.

As he drove, an idea started to form in his mind.


	4. Duke

Duke bolted the door and sat down with a bottle of whisky. He sipped at it as he tried to work out what the hell had just happened and why the hell he’d just said any of that to Nathan.

The thing was…

The thing was that Nathan had really gotten his back up with his insinuation that Duke might be a victim of abuse. Because that wasn’t what this whole thing was about. Far from it. It was a choice. A very deliberate choice that gave him what he needed. He really didn’t appreciate Nathan’s judginess that he’d been beaten half to death.

Even if he’d had a point about that.

But then, that was part of it for Duke. Part of what he needed was that knowledge that he was completely out of control of his own destiny. That his life was very literally in someone else’s hands. That someone else decided how much pain he deserved or how much pleasure he deserved. That someone else decided whether he lived or died.

God knew, Duke couldn’t decide that for himself.

Which was a whole different thing to think about and he was  _ not  _ going there today.

It was, he supposed, an elaborate method of self harming. A fucked up game of Russian Roulette. He’d pressed the self destruct button a lot of years ago and now it was something he couldn’t let go of. The pain. The danger. The loss of control. It had all become something he needed to  _ live.  _

Maybe  _ broken  _ didn’t quite cover it.

When he’d told Nathan that, when he’d said the words, he’d been expecting more judginess, more criticism. A look. A comment. Some sort of  _ punishment  _ for existing in a way that Nathan didn’t approve of. He’d been ready to lash out - had, in fact, lashed out verbally - but Nathan didn’t do that. He didn’t play his part of the game. Duke didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

Because he deserved that. He deserved that disapproval and disgust from someone as  _ morally upright  _ as Nathan. But what he got was calm acceptance and a warning to stay safe that sounded - to Duke’s ears, at least - genuine.

And that…? That, he had no idea what to do with. He’d been braced for a fight and he hadn’t gotten one so he’d resorted to joking and laughing and pretending he wasn’t breaking inside when all he wanted to do was scream -  _ why don’t you hate me?  _

He didn’t.

He didn’t because it was kinda nice to have the old Nathan back, the way he’d been back before...everything. Before Nathan had stopped seeing Duke-his-friend and started seeing Duke-the-smuggler-and all-round-bad-guy. And criminal.

So he kept quiet and he laughed and he accepted that maybe - just maybe - Nathan wanted to put it behind them. 

Even while he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

*

Somehow, over the next few weeks, Nathan popping by to check on Duke became Nathan popping by for beer and poker nights. Duke wasn’t entirely sure how that had happened but he wasn’t about to complain. Not while Nathan was still being friendly.

“Another beer?” Duke asked, throwing his cards onto the table in disgust. It was a good job they weren’t playing for real money because he was six hands down and damn Nathan and his damn poker face.

“I’ll give you a hand,” Nathan said.

Duke glared at him because that had been a spectacularly poor choice of phrasing. 

Nathan just gave him a little shrug and the hint of a smirk before he drained the last of his beer and carried the empties to the kitchen. He clearly knew  _ exactly  _ what he’d just said.

As he reached into the fridge for more beers, Duke’s phone pinged with a text message. He stupidly decided that he had enough hands to hold the bottles  _ and  _ his phone while he read it. Somewhat inevitably, his phone clattered to the floor.

Nathan picked it up and passed it back to him.

Duke hoped he hadn’t read it, hadn’t seen what was on the screen, but it was  _ right there  _ and there was no way Nathan hadn’t at least caught the gist of it, even if he hadn’t been looking. He braced himself for an argument.

“You’re going back?” Nathan sounded disappointed, as though Duke had let him down in some awful, huge, way, the same way he’d been doing for their whole lives.

“Yes. Problem?”

“Why, Duke?” Nathan sounded  _ soft,  _ gentle almost. 

Duke wanted to  _ snap,  _ but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that when Nathan was being  _ nice.  _

“Because I have a need and he fulfills it.”

Nathan nodded slowly. “You said there was someone else you could go to?”

“She doesn’t take it far enough, doesn’t hit the right buttons.” Duke couldn’t believe he was actually having this conversation again. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Nathan to fuck off, to stay out of his business and to just  _ stop.  _

“So you go back to be hurt?”

“Yes, Nathan.” Duke  _ tried  _ to modulate his tone, to take the edge off it but given Nathan’s slight recoil he thought he might have slightly missed the mark. “What part of  _ ‘I need this’  _ are you not getting?”

“Getting it. Just worried. What if there was another option?” Now - now he was shifting his weight awkwardly, running his hand across the stubble on his jaw and there was  _ something up.  _

“Like what? Go outta town every time I want my ass whipped?” Duke was being deliberately crude, pushing, trying to get Nathan further off balance. He was rewarded with a blush.

“Me.” Nathan stammered the word out but his eyes were fixed on Duke’s and he showed no sign of backing down.

“You?” Duke raised his eyebrows, momentarily lost for words because this was so far off what he’d been expecting that he had literally  _ no idea  _ how to react.

Nathan just nodded, his eyes still on Duke’s.

Being the object of that - that intense scrutiny was… Well Duke didn’t know quite  _ what  _ it was but it was almost uncomfortable, the way Nathan’s gaze just seemed to  _ pierce  _ him. It left him nowhere to hide. He cleared his throat. “Do you even know anything about this stuff?”

“Can learn.”

“Wait, you - you’re actually serious.”

“Yeah.”

“Why, Nate?” Duke ran his hands through his hair, still processing, still trying to get this to make some sort of sense.

“‘Cause you need it. ‘Cause if it isn’t me, it’ll be someone else and someone else might hurt you again and I don’t want that.”

“Oh, so you’re in cop mode, protect the citizens of Haven. Gotta say, Nate, offering from a position of power seems just a little bit sketchy.” Duke should have known, should have expected Nathan to jump straight into his ‘I can save the world and everyone in it’ bullshit.

“Funny, Duke.” Nathan’s expression was deadpan. If Duke had hit a nerve, he showed no sign of it.

Duke nodded. He did actually know better. Nathan was far too  _ good  _ to have any sort of ulterior motives. Which brought Duke back to wondering  _ why.  _ Asking again would only get him the same answer so, instead, he pressed into Nathan’s space, as close as he could get without actually touching.

“Really, Nate? You want to slam me into a wall and leave me with bruises? Force me down onto my knees, make me call you ‘sir’ and shove your cock in my mouth just to shut me up? You want to put those police handcuffs to good use and fuck me hard enough that I can’t walk the next day?” Duke purred silkily into his ear. “I don’t think you want any of that, I think you just want to play at it. Maybe some silk ties and dirty words, something nice and sweet and vanilla that you think will be enough.”

Nathan didn’t do  _ anything  _ Duke was expecting him to. He was expecting another blush, or a stammered agreement (or denial), even for Nathan to shove him away or punch him or  _ something.  _ But he didn’t.

He didn’t back down an inch.

“Try me and find out,” Nathan murmured into Duke’s ear, close enough that his breath tickled Duke’s skin.

Which was so entirely unlike Nathan - so utterly  _ surprising -  _ that Duke couldn’t even begin to formulate a coherent response.

So he gave Nathan a wry grin and opened both bottles of beer. He passed one to Nathan and raised his bottle for the double clink that had become their tradition in high school, back when they were drinking the cheapest, nastiest beer they could get their hands on. Nathan obliged him and, without another word, they returned to their game.

Two hands of poker later and Nathan gave Duke what could only be described as a smirk.

“Notice you didn’t say no.”

Duke laughed slightly, surprised by Nathan’s return to the subject. “No, I didn’t.”

“But it’s not an enthusiastic yes, either.”

Maybe it was Duke’s imagination but Nathan actually sounded disappointed and apparently they were going to have to have an actual fucking conversation about this.

“It would be an enthusiastic yes if I believed you meant it.”

“I did. Do.”

“Then I’ll ask again. Why? And don’t give me any crap about not wanting someone else to hurt me, I’m asking why you want it for yourself.”

Nathan blushed deeply and ran his hand across his jaw which didn’t hide it so much as it drew attention to it, which was probably the complete opposite of what he’d intended.

“Don’t think I can explain why. Just know I want it. You.” If it were possible, Nathan went even redder than before which was the surest indication that he believed what he was saying.

Duke tossed his cards onto the table, poker forgotten, and leaned forwards. “Ok, so let’s talk.”

“‘m better at doing,” Nathan mumbled.

“Yeah, no, I know, Nathan Wuornos does not  _ do  _ words, but if we’re doing this, there’s going to have to be some sort of communication  _ first.  _ This isn’t the sort of thing you leap into.”

“Know that.”

“Ok, look, lemme kick off.” Duke took pity on him. “I’m not looking for a relationship. Beer, poker and kinky sex, that’d suit me down to the ground. I don’t need more than that, I’m not looking for someone to save me and I sure as hell don’t want you to think you can fix me.”

Nathan nodded. “Friends with benefits.”

“Yeah, yeah, exactly that. Like, it doesn’t have to be just about sex, we can go out, grab a few beers or whatever, but romantic candlelit dinners, talking about our feelings...that’s off the table.”

“Fine with me.” Nathan actually looked relieved at that.

Duke studied him, trying to work out if the relief was because it wasn’t  _ just sex  _ or if it was because romance and talking was no longer an option. He had a feeling it might be the latter. There’d been a running joke between them since high school that Nathan had no game with chicks. Or, apparently, dudes. And that hadn’t changed in the intervening years because if this was a seduction attempt, it was the worst one Duke had ever had the bad luck to be on the receiving end of.

Which was oddly endearing, really, and it seemed it might actually  _ work,  _ so there was that.

“Ok, good. See, communicating.” Duke grinned.

Nathan rolled his eyes. “So, uh, those things you said earlier...those all things that you like?”

“Those are all things I like.”

“So...you want there to be a sexual element to it? It’s not just about pain?”

“There doesn’t have to be, it can be whatever we want it to be.”

“I mean, I could, y’know, if you wanted…”

“Jesus, Nate, you don’t have to make it sound quite so much like a pity fuck.”

Nathan blushed even more deeply than before. “Not what I meant. Always thought you were hot, just never acted on it.”

Duke grinned. “Nathan _ , everyone  _ thinks I’m hot.”

Nathan looked slightly crestfallen and Duke relented, dropping the teasing in favour of honesty.

“Ok, yes, I would very much like there to be a sexual element to it, if that’s what you want. I always thought you were hot too.”

Nathan snorted but nodded. “So, uh, guess we need to sort out a safe word, that sorta thing.”

“You  _ have  _ been doing your research,” Duke teased again, trying to keep the mood light, trying to keep Nathan from getting bogged down in details - important details, yes, but still… “Pancakes for getting close to a limit, waffles means stop straight away.”

“Easy to remember.” Nathan gave him a crooked smile. “What are your limits?”

“Anything legal should pretty well cover it.”

“Duke.” Nathan sounded soft again. “That tells me nothing.”

Which was a very valid point but Duke had a feeling that if he actually told Nathan where his limits were, he’d be running out of here in terror. Or disgust.

“Seriously, safe to say that anything you’d want to do, I’d be ok with.”

Nathan nodded. “Ok, can you tell me what you like, then? Some dos or don'ts. Something I can work with.”

That was something Duke  _ could  _ do, discussing guidelines rather than limits. Much more straightforward.

“Ok. My face is off limits. For everything - touching, kissing, everything. Otherwise, no permanent marks, no temporary marks that I can’t hide easily under clothing, don’t hurt my dick - or my balls for that matter - everything else is fair game. Verbal humiliation is ok but it’s not really about that for me, it’s about the physical. I want it to hurt.”

Nathan was wearing his poker face again but he hadn’t objected or asked any questions so Duke continued.

“I like to be fucked. Hard. I want to be used in any way you choose to. I want to give up control of my pain - and pleasure - and put it in your hands.”

“Pleasure?” Nathan frowned.

“Yes, Nathan, pleasure, believe it or not I do like to get an orgasm out of this. I’m talking about teasing and denial - you decide when, or if, I’ve earned it.”

Nathan stared back at him, his eyes dark and his lips slightly parted. “Ok - denial - got it,” he managed to say eventually, his voice not entirely level.

Duke laughed softly and leaned towards him, his elbows on the table. “That idea turns you on, doesn’t it? You want to tease me, make me plead for you to touch me, make me beg to come.”

“Duke!” Nathan choked out.

“Oh yeah, definitely turns you on.” Duke grinned and sat back, delighted at the expression on Nathan’s face which was somewhere between  _ please, God, change the subject  _ and  _ for fucks sake don’t stop talking.  _

Nathan ran his fingers across his lips and Duke’s gaze flicked down, watching, wondering exactly how those lips might feel wrapped around his cock. What tricks they might know. Whether they might be soft and teasing or rough and with a hint of teeth.

He wasn’t sure which he was hoping for.

He cleared his throat. “So, uh, that about covers what I like, where my limits are.”

Nathan nodded, staring down at the table as if he knew what Duke was about to ask.

“What about you, Nate? Likes, dislikes, limits?”

“I, uh. If you’re enjoying it, I will. Don’t like anything dangerous. Nothing that might hurt you, not like you were.”

“Ok, so let’s rule out suspension and breath play and caning...tell you what, I’ll draw up a list, then you can go through it, decide which are definite no’s and which might be yes’s depending on the situation.”

Nathan’s sigh of relief was audible. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Need me to send you some stuff on technique?”

“Wh- Oh, you mean…? Uh, no, thanks, I got that. Google.”

Duke grinned and leaned forwards, his elbows on the table again. “You’ve googled this stuff already?”

Nathan blushed again. “Seemed sensible to know what I was getting into.”

Which did absolutely nothing to wipe the grin off Duke’s face. “You knew I’d say yes, didn’t you?”

Nathan wriggled his shoulders in an awkward little shrug.

Duke took that to mean that he’d  _ hoped  _ Duke would say yes. Which was...intriguing.

Not that Duke had never considered the possibility before. Of course he had. Nathan was a very attractive man, despite his obvious inability to believe that, and Duke’s teenage self had spent a lot of hours gazing at Nathan and thinking about what it might be like to kiss him. In all of his daydreams, he had never considered the possibility that Nathan would be willing to try anything except lights-off-and-under-the-duvet type sex. But then, he had never considered the possibility that Nathan might have an interest in men, either.

Which just went to show how wrong he could be sometimes.

Which, in turn, was  _ annoying  _ (and somewhat disconcerting) because Duke prided himself on his ability to read people. He’d known Nathan for pretty much their entire lives. He was  _ never  _ wrong about Nathan.

Except, apparently, about this.

“Ok, look, let’s talk again in a few days, work out some details, sort out a time and place, how’s that work for you?”

“That works.” Nathan gave him a brief nod and drained his beer before standing up.

Duke couldn’t quite stop himself from glancing at Nathan’s crotch to see if he’d been as turned on as his expression had suggested. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when there was no telltale bulge.

Nathan must have caught him looking because he raised one eyebrow and gave Duke what could only be described as a smirk.

Duke cleared his throat. “I’ll, uh - I’ll call you.”

“Look forward to it.” Nathan’s smile could only be described as shy, just a hint of a curve on his lips before he turned and left.

It wasn’t until a couple of hours later that it occurred to Duke. Nathan had offered this because he was worried about him. Nathan had offered this because he  _ cared.  _ For some absolutely fucking absurd reason, he thought that Duke was worth this. 

And that…? 

That was huge.


	5. Duke

A week later, following some further discussion (via text, to save Nathan’s blushes), Duke knocked on Nathan’s door.

He’d insisted on going to Nathan’s place. More specifically, he’d insisted on going anywhere except the Rouge because that gave him somewhere to retreat to. If things went wrong, if he had to safeword out, he wanted to be able to leave, to go home and lick his wounds rather than being faced with having to throw an apologetic Nathan off his boat.

Not that he was expecting to have to safeword out. If anything, he was expecting to have to beg Nathan for  _ harder  _ and  _ more,  _ but it didn’t hurt to have a backup plan. Just in case. Nathan wasn’t exactly experienced at this and, even with the best of intentions, things could go wrong. Very wrong.

There was no answer. Duke couldn’t help wondering if Nathan had bottled out. Or perhaps he was being kept waiting as some sort of mind game. A power trip. A show of control. Everything on Nathan’s terms. Even how long Duke had to wait outside.

After several minutes, Nathan opened the door. “Beer?” he asked by way of greeting.

It was on the tip of Duke’s tongue to refuse, to suggest they just got down to it, but maybe - just maybe - his first thought had been right; the delay was down to Nathan steadying his nerves. Maybe  _ Nathan  _ needed a beer, so he followed him into the kitchen instead.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“So, uh. How’ve you been?” Nathan said as he passed Duke a beer.

“Oh, is that what we’re doing here? Drinks and polite conversation? I thought we were fucking,” Duke said. He intended it to be light hearted - a joke, almost - but Nathan’s face dropped and he immediately backtracked. “Sorry. That was crude. I’ve been fine, thanks, how about you?”

“Good. Busy.”

Duke nodded. “Work stuff?”

Nathan gave him a small smile. “Always.”

“That is not exactly comforting. This is  _ Haven,  _ Nate, how much crime can there be?”

“Oh, you know. Cats in trees, helping old ladies cross the road, that sorta thing.”

“Right, right, public service stuff rather than actual crime fighting. Least it’s not all coffee and donuts.”

Nathan rolled his eyes slightly. “Not all coffee and donuts. Things good at the Gull?”

“Yeah, quieter now some of the tourists have left but still busy, turning a profit. A small one, but a profit.”

“Good to hear. I, uh. You really turned things around. Lot to be said for that.”

Duke flailed for an appropriate response. He’d never dreamed that Nathan would ever offer that acknowledgement that he’d changed and left his old life behind. 

“Uh. Thanks.” That was about as good a response as he had, which wasn’t a particularly great one but Nathan nodded and seemed happy enough to accept that and not push for anything more.

He took a swig of his beer as he tried to work out what the  _ fuck  _ was happening here. The evening was supposed to be about sex, not about small talk that was threatening to turn into big talk. Maybe Nathan was trying to ease a guilty conscience over what they were about to do. Or maybe it was just the same vague sense of unease that Duke was feeling because they were about to cross a line that there was no way back from.

“You sure you’re ok with this?” Duke asked, watching Nathan carefully.

Nathan ran his fingers across his lips and nodded. “Yeah, I’m ok with it.”

“Nervous?” There was a time for gentle questions and this moment was definitely not it so Duke opted for bluntness instead.

Nathan let out a soft breath of almost-laughter. “Shouldn’t it be me asking you that?”

Which was probably a fair question but Duke shrugged. “This isn’t new to me.”

“Maybe. Still. I’m asking anyway.”

“I’m not nervous, I know you’ll respect my boundaries.”

“Appreciate that. Know I haven’t given you any reason to trust me.”

Duke nodded and drained the last of his beer. “And you didn’t answer, you just deflected it back onto me which - that’s not gonna fly here.”

Nathan ran his fingers across his lips. “Not nervous.”

“Oh?” Duke closed the gap between them, standing almost close enough to touch, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from Nathan’s body. “Excited, then?”

Nathan’s gaze was strong and steady but his breath hitched, just slightly, barely enough to be noticeable. It was  _ enough  _ to confirm that Duke was, in fact, entirely correct with that assessment.

“Oh, you  _ are,”  _ Duke said, grinning.

“Shut up, Duke.”

“Has that seriously ever worked? Telling me to shut up?”

“Nope. Could always just gag you, though.”

Duke couldn’t stop the surprised bark of laughter that escaped from him. That was so entirely unlike Nathan and now -  _ finally -  _ the evening was well and truly back in his comfort zone. “You could,” he said, inclining his head slightly in a not-quite nod.

“But you’d probably enjoy that. Not much of a threat.” There was a slight raise of Nathan’s eyebrows, the hint of a smile on his lips.

“I would and it isn’t.” 

“Thought as much.” Nathan drained the last of his beer and set the empty bottle on the counter. “Lounge. Clothes off.” With that, he turned and walked away. 

Duke was left to decide whether to trail in his footsteps, or to leave. It gave him a moment to gather his thoughts, to make that choice and to commit to whatever Nathan had planned. Not that it was ever in question because leaving would be  _ backing down.  _ And that was something Duke didn’t do. Ever. 

He finished his own beer and followed.

The lounge curtains were already closed - not that it was really necessary with no neighbours overlooking this side of the house, but it afforded them that extra bit of privacy and Duke appreciated that. He quickly shed his clothes, aware of Nathan watching his every movement with rapt attention. There was a certain amount of vulnerability \- an _awkwardness_ \- to being stark naked in front of a fully clothed Nathan who hadn't so much as taken his shoes off. 

Not that Duke would ever have admitted it out loud so he spread his arms out and grinned. “Like what you see?”

Nathan raised his eyebrows and gave him a wry grin - an unspoken  _ yes.  _ Which was, apparently, all the reassurance Duke was going to get because Nathan immediately busied himself with unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves. 

Just that simple act sent a thrill through Duke. 

“Turn around. Hands on the wall,” Nathan said quietly.

Duke stared back at him. There was no  _ authority  _ in Nathan’s voice, there was no almost-threatening presence, there was no  _ physicality.  _ There was nothing at all to make Duke obey his command.

“Against the wall.” Nathan used the same quiet, almost soft tone.

Duke laughed. “No ropes? No handcuffs? What makes you think I’m going to do what you say?”

“Against the wall, Duke,” Nathan said patiently.

Duke lifted his chin. “Make me.”

Maybe that’s what Nathan needed, an excuse to get physical with him, to shove him around, to push him, to force him up against the wall but Duke was sorely disappointed when Nathan just shrugged.

“Ok. Don’t wanna play by my rules, don’t have to.”

“...What?”

“I’m not forcing you. Not tying you up. You want this, you’re gonna have to give it to me.”

Duke had thought the evening was well and truly in his comfort zone but that threw him straight out of it again. He stared back at Nathan and tried to work out what the hell was happening.

_ Nathan wasn’t overpowering him.  _ Control and agency were entirely in his hands and he had  _ no idea  _ what to do with it. He had to make the choice for himself. He could do what he was told, turn his back to Nathan and accept whatever was coming next, or he could pull his clothes back on and walk away, never knowing what might have been.

And that…? That was fucking powerful. Nathan had somehow managed to find a button to push. A button that Duke hadn’t even known he’d had. He’d found a way to get under Duke’s skin, to give him something different. Something unexpected.

So he nodded slowly and turned around. 

The wall was cool and solid beneath his hands. Duke wondered when Nathan had redecorated because he was at least fairly certain it hadn’t been eggshell white last time he’d been here. He barely managed to bite back laughter at the sheer  _ absurdity  _ of that thought.

He had to make a physical effort to stop himself from turning around as an unmistakable sound reached his ears. A soft clink of metal. A swish of leather sliding through denim. Duke stook, his cock twitching in anticipation of the crack of the belt across his back.

It didn’t come. Instead, Nathan ran his hand gently down his back, from his shoulder to his hip; a shocking contrast to the pain he’d been expecting. He jerked away from it as though he’d been struck.

“Ok?” Nathan murmured.

Duke let out a shaky breath and steadied himself. “Yeah.”

Nathan kept his hand on his hip and Duke slowly relaxed into the contact. When Nathan repeated the movement - more firmly this time but still  _ gentle -  _ Duke arched into it.

“Ready?” Nathan said quietly, his breath tickling the back of Duke’s neck.

_ Was he ready?  _ That was the million dollar question. He’d  _ chosen  _ this, he’d consciously decided to put himself at Nathan’s mercy, but none of this was what he’d been expecting. Now that it had come down to it, he wasn’t entirely sure that he  _ was  _ ready.

Still, he nodded. 

“With words, Duke. Are you ready?”

Duke swallowed hard, his throat harsh and dry, and nodded again. “I’m ready.” It was that or back down and that - that wasn’t an option. He was here, and he was damned if he was walking away.

Nathan took a step back. The room was quiet except for the soft, regular, sound of Nathan's breathing and the rhythmic drumming of Duke's heartbeat, rushing through his own ears. A quiet rustle of clothing. A hiss of air. An audible crack. A split second later, pain exploded across Duke's ass, drawing an involuntary gasp from his lips.

He barely had a chance to draw breath before the next strike fell. And the next. And the next. Each blow fell slightly above the last, stripes of pain that climbed slowly up his back. Duke fought to keep his hands on the wall, to stand there and take it.

This was what he needed.

This was what he deserved.

He gritted his teeth against every stroke of the belt that drove that message deeper and deeper into him, until it allowed him a release - an escape - from the dark and crowded mess of thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him. He no longer had to punish himself because now…? Now that punishment was in Nathan’s hands.

And that was liberating.

That was why he did this.

He no longer had to think about what a fuck up he was because every crack of the leather against his skin proved it. Every second of searing pain proved it.

Pain which was far more than he’d ever expected Nathan to give him. 

Pain which was magnified; amplified a hundred-fold by the lack of restraints. Duke knew he could take more if he was tied up. But he wasn’t. He was making a conscious decision to stand there and take it.

Pain which threatened to overwhelm him.

_ Waffles  _ was on the tip of his tongue when Nathan stopped.

Duke leaned his forehead against the wall and panted for breath. He jerked upright again when Nathan ran his fingers down his back, across every stripe the belt had left, the touch cool against his heated skin and gentle. Impossibly gentle.

So gentle that it was  _ too much,  _ and Duke arched away.

Nathan's hand dropped immediately. “Ok?” he said quietly.

“Uh…” Duke hesitated, trying to get his head around the fact that Nathan had  _ checked in  _ because that was something he was very much not used to. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Really fine?”

“Really fine.”

“Good. Turn round.”

No sooner had Duke done what he was told than Nathan put his hand on his chest and pushed him backwards until he hit the wall with a soft gasp.  _ Finally,  _ Nathan was getting hands on. The wall behind him was  _ cold,  _ shocking and oddly soothing, a contrast to the heat of Nathan pressed against his front as he wrapped strong fingers around Duke’s wrists and forced them above his head to hold him in place.

There, right there, sandwiched between Nathan and the wall, somewhere he'd never thought he'd find himself, is precisely where Duke wanted to be. Nathan was so close that if he inclined his head just slightly, they'd be kissing. Duke nearly  _ said something, _ something to remind him that it was off limits, when Nathan rolled his hips, rough denim scraping across sensitive skin, and all Duke could do was make a sound that was somewhere between a choke and a whine.

"Good?" Nathan asked with a slight smirk, not giving Duke a chance to answer before he did it again.

This time, Duke groaned loudly and Nathan backed off, still smirking.

“Lie down on the couch,” he said as he released Duke’s wrists and turned away.

Duke arranged himself on the couch in what he hoped was an alluring position. He propped his shoulders up on a cushion, put one foot on the floor, the other on the couch, his legs slightly parted, and put on his best  _ fuck me now  _ expression.

To which Nathan was, apparently, oblivious because all he did was to take a seat in a chair facing the couch, one socked foot resting on the edge, his knee tucked up to his chest.

“Show me how you like to touch yourself.”

Nothing about the scene was anything like Duke had been expecting but that - 

He’d been expecting Nathan to fuck him, to use him. He half thought about questioning why Nathan wasn’t doing that but he wasn’t ready to hear the answer he already knew. He wasn’t worthy of that. He didn’t deserve that. 

So he swallowed hard and obeyed. He took himself in his hand and moved slowly at first, then faster, following the rhythm that was so natural and so personal to him. With each stroke, he was acutely aware of Nathan’s gaze on him, almost a caress as he followed every movement Duke made.

Nathan’s expression was pure focus as he watched. His eyes were dark, his lips slightly parted, and he shifted as though his jeans were uncomfortable which drew Duke’s attention to the now-obvious bulge. And that - knowing that Nathan was so turned on - that was hot.

Duke moved his hand faster, gripped harder, breathless as he threw his head back and closed his eyes and  _ imagined.  _

Nathan’s hands on him, pinning him down. Nathan’s mouth on his neck, teasing and nibbling. Nathan’s cock inside him, fucking him hard.

He imagined it all and - lost in his fantasy - came into his hand with a soft sigh of pleasure.

When he opened his eyes again, Nathan was smiling at him. Duke took a moment to gather his breath and bask in the afterglow.


	6. Nathan

Nathan stared, running his fingers across his lips as he committed the beautiful sight in front of him to memory.

Duke's head was thrown back, his throat exposed and Nathan wanted to lick, to taste, to  _ bite  _ and find out what reaction that would get him. Would Duke moan and expose his throat further? Or would he whine and writhe beneath Nathan in a vain attempt to free himself? 

His cheeks were flushed and strands of hair which had escaped from his ponytail now clung to his face. He gasped for breath through parted lips. He looked  _ gorgeous.  _

Actually, Duke looked gorgeous most of the time but Nathan wasn’t even remotely ready to let himself think about that. That wasn’t what was important right now. What was important was making sure Duke was taken care of so Nathan put all of his thoughts to the back of his mind, passed him a box of tissues and turned away to give him a moment of privacy to clean up.

By the time he returned, Duke was sitting up. He looked thoroughly  _ fucked.  _ He was relaxed, more relaxed than Nathan had seen him in a long time, the tension gone from his face, and he blinked slowly, almost like he was ready to go to sleep. Nathan passed him the bottle of water he’d gone to fetch and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch. He draped it around Duke’s shoulders and sat beside him, just close enough that their elbows brushed.

“What the fuck?” Duke said. There was a hint of surprised laughter in his voice but he didn’t pull away.

“Aftercare.” Nathan tried not to sound defensive. “Assumed you’d know that.”

“It’s a concept I’m familiar with, yes.”

_ Concept.  _ It was an interesting choice of phrasing, coming from Duke who was an expert at twisting words to suit his purpose. 

“The concept but not the execution of it?”

“Not something I need. So I, uh, I appreciate it but it’s really not necessary.”

“Is in my book.”

“Nate.” Duke sounded almost whiny.

Nathan braced himself for an argument. “Duke. Stop arguing with me. Doesn’t have to be for long.”

“Oh god.” Duke groaned. “Are we going to have to sit and talk about how it made me feel and what could be better for next time? Because I gotta tell you, I could really do without that.”

“No. We’re going to sit and make sure you’re ok.”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah. Still my job to make sure you don’t walk out of here feeling like shit.”

“I don’t. Why are you trying to make this weird.”

“I’m not trying to make this weird.”

“You’re succeeding though.”

“Do you argue with everyone else about this or is it just because it’s me?”

“I’m amused that you think anyone else has done this.” Duke’s laugh was bitter and entirely without humour.

Fury rushed through Nathan.  _ How dare they?  _ How dare anyone treat Duke like he  _ wasn’t worth this?  _ Like he was  _ disposable.  _ How could anyone do that, let alone someone he trusted enough to do this with?

He swallowed the urge to punch something and threw his arms around Duke instead.

Duke tensed against him, as though he was thinking about pulling away, before he relaxed into the contact and let himself be hugged, the same way he had last time Nathan had hugged him. Last time, Nathan had assumed it was just because of his injuries but maybe not. Maybe -

Maybe Duke had never had affection for the sake of affection.

Which was a particularly unpleasant thought, though it made a horrifying amount of sense. Now wasn’t the time to bring it up but Nathan resolved to do something about it, to make sure that Duke got  _ something  _ resembling affection. Maybe he wouldn’t accept it in any other context but like this, after a scene, that’s when Nathan could make sure he at least got some form of tenderness. So he pulled Duke a little closer, held him a little tighter.

“You deserve better. Not using you, Duke, and I don’t want to feel like I am so I’d appreciate it if you stayed a while.” 

Telling Duke that he wanted him to stay so he didn’t feel guilty was an attempt at  _ honesty,  _ at  _ openness.  _ But communication had never been Nathan’s strong point and it backfired. Badly.

Duke immediately pulled away. “Really, Nate? You can’t even bring yourself to touch me - or apparently to let me touch you - and you want me to stay?”

Nathan frowned. “That what you think this was about? That I don’t... want you?”

Duke shrugged. “Pretty obvious.”

“I - uh,” Nathan cleared his throat, heat rising to his cheeks. “I like to watch.”

“You - ? So that was…?”

“Hot? Yeah.”

“But you don’t want me to take care of you?”

“Not that I don’t want you to.”

“So what is it then?”

“Wanted tonight to be about giving you what you need. Not about taking what I want.”

Duke stared at him. He looked for all the world like he was about to argue, probably something about how he wasn’t worth that, but then he nodded. “Ok, for this time. But for future reference, what I need includes you enjoying this as well.”

Which, Nathan thought, was probably a fair point. Clearly he hadn’t offered Duke enough assurance so he smiled slightly. “You’re assuming I’m not enjoying it.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. Next time.”

“Bold of you to assume there’s gonna be a next time,” Duke said, smirking.

“Sorry. Thought it was a fair assumption seeing as you gave me a point to note for future reference.”

Duke laughed. “Yeah. I’d like to, for what it’s worth.”

“It was ok then?” Nathan hated how  _ insecure  _ he sounded, hated asking Duke for that reassurance when it should be the other way around, but Duke gave him a little smile.

“Better than ok.”

“Any - uh - anything you’d want different?”

“I’m not - I don’t want to sit here and dissect this but... No. Other than what I just said about needing you to enjoy it as well, no, it was good, I’m up for trying different stuff, whatever takes your fancy but this was - it was good, Nate.”

“Ok.” Nathan nodded, more confident now that he hadn’t  _ fucked it up.  _ “Just didn’t want to take it too far.”

“Yeah, no, you didn’t but I get what you mean. First time. Gonna take us a while to work things out.”

That sounded like Duke was thinking of this as a long term thing, or at least a regular thing. So maybe it wasn’t quite as  _ casual  _ as Duke was pretending it was. It might still be  _ just sex  _ but it wasn’t going to be  _ sordid,  _ and that put Nathan’s mind at rest and made him feel a whole hell of a lot better about what he’d just done.

“You didn’t answer,” he said, giving Duke a friendly nudge with his elbow.

“About?”

“Staying for a while.”

“Oh. Uh. Yeah, if that’s what you want.”

“Up to you, if you’d rather not then that’s fine but I could grab a couple of beers.”

Duke smiled. “Yeah, ok, grab some beers. Want a hand or two of poker?”

“Poker sounds good.” Nathan stood up and passed Duke his clothes, leaving him to get dressed while he collected the beers and a deck of cards.

By the time they’d played a few hands, any remaining awkwardness between them had dissipated and they were back to snarking and laughing and trying to outdo each other with outrageous bluffs.

It was late when Duke excused himself. Before he left, he briefly pulled Nathan into a one armed hug, said “thanks”, and scurried out of the door before Nathan could respond.

Nathan stared at Duke’s back as he walked to his truck. He waited until Duke got inside before he closed the door, smiling to himself about that awkward one armed hug that Duke had given him, knowing it for a clumsy attempt at affection. Somehow that meant more to him than if Duke had just outright hugged him. Because clearly Duke wasn’t used to hugging or being hugged but he’d still made the effort. For Nathan.

He was still smiling as he cleared up the cards and empty bottles. With that done, he sat down on the couch, still too wired to even think about going to bed and sleeping yet.

The scent of  _ Duke  _ was still on the blanket. Sandalwood and spices and salt. Memories raced through Nathan’s mind. He settled back on the couch, exactly where Duke had been, and replayed every last detail of the evening.

The sense of power he’d felt when he pinned Duke to the wall. How completely trusting Duke had been once he made the decision to allow Nathan to take control. How every emotion had been written on his face. The moments where he was completely unguarded, those were  _ precious.  _

And then there were the sounds. The beautiful choked sound Duke had made when Nathan had ground his hips against him. The soft sounds of pleasure, low in the back of his throat. Sounds that Nathan was unaware he was echoing as he pushed his jeans and boxers down and began to stroke himself.

He imagined it was Duke’s hand on his cock instead of his own and remembered how Duke had pleasured himself, slowly and deliberately until he couldn’t be any more. And the way his beautiful body had tensed and relaxed, over and over. Nathan moved his hand faster, thinking about the moment when Duke had thrown his head back and given himself over to the pleasure, and his face as he’d come with every muscle in his body pulled tight. He couldn’t help but wonder what that might feel like if he was buried deep inside Duke.

With that thought, his own orgasm rushed through him. He caught his breath and quickly cleaned up, then settled more deeply into the couch.

Duke had said he wanted there to be a next time but Nathan was still surprised when his phone beeped a few minutes later with a text from Duke saying simply “same time next week?” He smiled. Duke couldn’t have been home more than ten minutes and he was already setting up their next meeting.

He replied straight away.

*

“Another one?!” Nathan slammed the file Dwight had just passed him down on his desk and ran his hand across his face.

Dwight nodded and perched on the corner of the spare desk in Nathan’s office. “Four now.”

Nathan swore under his breath. “All the same MO?”

“Identical.”

Four burglaries in as many days might have been small fry by big city standards but it constituted a crime wave in Haven. The first one had slipped by as a subject of town gossip. The second had earned Nathan a call from the mayor. The third had brought several phone calls from concerned citizens. Nathan had no doubts that his phone would be ringing off the hook after this latest one.

He ran his hand across his face again. “Ok, send out notices about increasing security. Run something in the Herald, too. Make sure as many people see it as possible.”

Dwight nodded. “Will do. Any budget for overtime? Step up patrols?”

Nathan let out a bitter bark of laughter. “I’ll talk to the mayor. Meantime, ask for volunteers.”

“Roger that. Count me in.”

“I’ll coordinate it once I have names. Cover any nights no one else wants to.”

Dwight nodded an acknowledgement and left, leaving Nathan alone in his office.

As predicted, his afternoon was filled with phone calls - along with the seemingly never ending paperwork that went along with being Chief. Nathan was beginning to understand why his father had never managed to get home at a sensible hour. He briefly considered calling him out of retirement just to help him get through the inevitable mountain of paperwork that four burglaries, not to mention a missing dog that had been found three hours later in the next door neighbours house, had created. 

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he dismissed it. There was no way in  _ hell  _ he was calling his father and admitting defeat. The Chief - he still thought of him as  _ the Chief  _ even now, two years after he’d retired - would never let him live it down.

He sighed and settled down to begin scaling Paperwork Mountain. Every time his phone rang, he tried not to snap. He wasn’t altogether successful when Beverly Keegan called to tell him how his father had been a much better Chief and there hadn’t been a single burglary in town during his time as head of the Haven PD and now there had been  _ four  _ and did Nathan have  _ any idea  _ what he was doing or had he just inherited the Chief’s position because his father was friendly with the mayor.

By the time six o’clock came around, Nathan was still only halfway through the paperwork. 

He sighed and ran his hand across his face for what felt like the millionth time that day. Duke was due at his place at seven. Nathan had no intention of letting him down so he pushed the paperwork to the side of his desk and stood up. He’d just have to be back at the station first thing in the morning and try to find some time to be an  _ actual cop  _ instead of a glorified desk jockey.

*

“Figured it was my turn to bring the beers this time,” Duke said as he handed Nathan a six pack.

“Thanks. Didn’t have to.” Nathan put the whole pack in the fridge, took out two bottles and passed one back to Duke.

Duke shrugged and raised his bottle for their customary double clink.

“Good week?”

“Same as always. Oh, I developed a new dish for the Gull - tagliatelle with scallops and prosciutto in a white wine and garlic sauce. You should come by, try it out some time.”

“Yeah, I will. That sounds really good.”

“It is.” Duke smiled. “How was your week?”

“Paperwork. Whoever invented red tape needs to be shot.”

“I’m shocked to hear you say that. Do I need to call Dwight and tell him you’re thinking of committing a crime?” 

“Be worth doing though.”

“Yeah, you - you make an excellent point. Paperwork is the worst.”

Last time, Duke had jokingly objected to having a casual conversation. Nathan knew - he  _ knew  _ he’d fucked it up last time, expecting Duke to want to talk. He should’ve known better. Duke was here for one thing and one thing only so he nodded and set his now half-empty bottle of beer on the counter. “You good to go?”

Duke swallowed the last of his beer. “I’m good. What d’you have in mind?”

“You’ll see.”

“Yeah?” Duke raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to one side. “Where d’you want me then?”

“Lounge.”

“Same as last time, got it.” Duke grinned and walked away, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.

Nathan grabbed hold of his wrist. “Leave it on.”

Duke gave him a questioning look but did what he was told. His shirt was half unbuttoned and there was something about that look on him - that half undressed, slightly rumpled look - that made Nathan’s fingers itch to tear that shirt off him and run his hand across Duke’s bare skin.

He didn’t. Instead, he forced himself to work slowly and methodically to finish unbuttoning Duke’s shirt. He slipped it off his shoulders and dropped it to the floor. Last time, Nathan had been too nervous to really absorb the sight that was Duke. This time, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from him.

He’d always thought that Duke was good looking. Hot, even. But the lean muscles and tanned skin and the  _ poise  _ with which Duke held himself...he’d been wrong. Duke wasn’t just hot. He was  _ beautiful.  _

Delicate lines of ink flowed across Duke’s shoulders. Nathan reached out to trace them. His fingers fluttered over the intricate patterns and Duke stood, still and quiet, allowing the contact.

Mesmerised as he was by the complex designs, Nathan continued for long enough that it was probably  _ awkward.  _ He cleared his throat and pulled away to find that Duke was watching him, the hint of a smile on his otherwise neutral expression - a smile that was just enough to reassure Nathan that at least Duke didn’t seem to feel any sense of unease about being touched.

Encouraged that maybe he wasn’t getting things too badly wrong, Nathan took off his own shirt and pressed against Duke, bare chest to bare chest as he maneuvered him against the wall.

Duke went willingly. His eyes were large and dark and there was the slightest hitch in his breathing which turned into a soft groan as his back hit the solid wall behind him. Nathan held him there with his hips and ran his hands over the warm, smooth, skin of Duke’s chest, alternating his touch between soft, gentle caresses and hard, rough grasps that made Duke arch against him.

His arousal was obvious and, emboldened by Duke’s response, Nathan slid his hands down. He paused to rest them on Duke’s hips, then dipped his fingers just below the waistband of his pants, eliciting a noise from Duke that was dangerously close to a whine.

“What, just from this?” Nathan teased lightly.

“Oh and you’re not even remotely affected. Ok, Nate, got it,” Duke fired back at him.

Nathan laughed. “Ok, fair.”

He pulled away and roughly dragged Duke’s pants off, not entirely surprised to find that Duke was once again bare beneath them. “You go commando all the time or is this just for my benefit?”

“All the time.” 

A jolt of arousal flooded through Nathan at the thought, possibilities flying through his mind.

Pulling Duke into a corner of his office, slipping his hand into Duke’s pants to jerk him off. Or bending Duke over his desk and pulling his pants down just enough to fuck him right then and there. Maybe he wouldn’t even finish him, maybe he’d just leave him breathless and wanting.

Nathan barely managed to stifle a groan. “Good to know,” he managed to say, pulling off his own pants.

He pressed back against Duke and wrapped his fingers around his throat, carefully but insistently forcing his head back. Duke’s eyes were closed, his breaths were harsh and ragged, his pulse raced under Nathan’s hand. He looked so  _ vulnerable  _ like that, so completely unguarded. A new flush of  _ want  _ surged through Nathan. He shifted his hand to Duke’s hair, tangled his fingers in the soft strands to pull his head back further. Not that pulling was necessary because Duke threw his head back, exposing his throat. Nathan took full advantage - kissing and nibbling and biting and, when Duke arched into him, Nathan rolled his hips, letting Duke feel how hard he was. 

“Still doubt that I want you?” he murmured into Duke’s ear, nibbling at his earlobe and making Duke shiver.

“No, no, that’s, uh - that’s pretty obvious.”

Nathan nipped his ear before he pulled away. “Turn round.”

Without even a moment’s hesitation, Duke did what he was told. He was so compliant, so  _ obedient,  _ that Nathan couldn’t help but be a little overwhelmed by the trust Duke was putting in him. 

He leaned into Duke’s back, grabbed his wrists and pinned his hands above his head. He wished he was better with words. Duke pressed back against him, wordlessly seeking more contact, and there were so many things Nathan wanted to say. Things like telling Duke how much he wanted to fuck him. Or to ask him how much he liked it. Whether he knew just how good he looked like that, or whether he knew what the sounds he was making did to Nathan. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t say any of that. So he settled for leaning in to breathe across Duke’s ear.

“God you’re hot, Duke,” he managed to murmur. It wasn’t what he wanted to say but it would  _ do,  _ it gave Duke  _ something.  _

Or at least he assumed it did. Duke shivered and whined and threw his head back again. It was that gesture, that signal of submission, of Duke  _ yielding  _ to him, that told Nathan that Duke was  _ his.  _ For tonight anyway.

He released Duke’s wrists and pulled away. “On your knees,” he said, trying to make it sound like a command and not a hesitant request.

He wasn’t sure he’d succeeded but Duke did it anyway. Duke  _ obeyed  _ again and he did it so fast that it was like he’d been waiting for Nathan to ask for it, like he was  _ hungry  _ for it.

Maybe he was.

It gave Nathan confidence. He might not be getting things exactly right but he wasn’t getting them wrong, either. He took hold of Duke’s hair and yanked his head back, forced Duke to look up at him and  _ god  _ if that wasn’t the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Dark eyes, parted lips. As Nathan watched, Duke ran his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Suck,” Nathan growled.

Duke needed no encouragement. He expertly, effortlessly, took Nathan’s cock deep in his throat. Nathan’s hand was still tangled in his hair - gently now, he wouldn’t force this, but he didn’t mind giving Duke the illusion that he had no choice.

Duke’s throat was hot and tight and he was doing things with his tongue that Nathan hadn’t imagined were even possible and then he swallowed and Nathan couldn’t hold back the choked sound that escaped him.

The sensations blew Nathan’s mind but it wasn’t just that which drew such a reaction from him. It was  _ everything.  _ It was Duke, dropping to his knees in front of him without question or hesitation. It was being a hundred percent in control; something which terrified him as much as it aroused him.

But as incredible as it was, Duke sucking him to completion wasn’t part of what he had planned.

Nathan pulled Duke’s head away. “Bend over the couch,” he said, his voice hoarse.

He didn’t bother to wait and see if Duke was doing what he was told. He knew he would be. By the time he’d picked up a bottle of lube and a packet of condoms from the drawer, Duke was bent over the arm of the couch. His ass was high and he looked back over his shoulder with an expression of undisguised lust. Nathan barely managed to stifle a groan.

He gave the lube a moment to warm on his fingers and slowly - so slowly - slid one inside Duke’s ass. Then another as Duke opened up around him.

No matter how much Duke arched his back and pushed towards him, Nathan wouldn’t be rushed. He worked steadily, stretching Duke. Preparing him. And  _ god  _ that made his cock twitch in anticipation. He was  _ getting Duke ready.  _ In a few short moments, he was going to be  _ fucking Duke,  _ over the arm of his couch. Judging by the whines, high in Duke’s throat, he was  _ desperate  _ for it.

Lost in his thoughts, Nathan must have moved too quickly, too hard, because there was a sharp intake of breath from Duke even though he pushed back onto Nathan’s fingers.

“Sorry,” Nathan murmured, forcing himself to concentrate, to take better care because Duke was trusting him with this. He didn’t deserve to be hurt. 

With that thought in mind, Nathan resumed and once he was satisfied that Duke was ready - or at least  _ ready enough -  _ he withdrew his fingers and rolled on a condom.

“Ready?” he said quietly.

“So fucking ready.” Duke sounded breathless with need.

Nathan positioned himself and carefully pushed inside him. He reminded himself not to rush. To be gentle. Something that wasn’t so easy because Duke was pushing back against him, encouraging him with soft little moans of  _ need _ that Nathan was certain were entirely unconscious.

He pushed until he was buried deep inside Duke, and took a moment to enjoy the sensation. Duke was hot and tight. Then he relaxed around him,  _ accommodating  _ him, and seemed to almost pull him deeper. He held still, gave Duke a chance to adjust.

Although if Duke’s desperate writhing was anything to go by, he didn’t need it. His hands clenched and unclenched and Nathan couldn’t help but wonder how those fingers might feel gripping his ass and pulling him closer.  _ Next time.  _

He rested his hand on the small of Duke’s back and started to move. Slowly and gently, ignoring Duke’s wordless encouragement for faster and harder and  _ more  _ until he was sure Duke was ready.

Then and only then did Nathan pick up the pace. He fucked Duke hard and fast, raked his nails down Duke’s back, leaving red stripes that stood out against the tanned skin. Duke arched into the pain.  _ Sought it. _ He bucked against Nathan, soft cries escaping from him on every stroke and Nathan shifted his hands to Duke’s hips, gripping hard, holding him  _ still.  _

Duke shuddered and settled, unresisting as Nathan fucked him hard. And it was that - that  _ submission -  _ that tipped Nathan over the edge.

He came with a low groan and stilled with his hands resting lightly on Duke’s hips.  _ Fuck.  _ He regained his breath and gathered his thoughts before he pulled out and cleaned up.

Duke whined, high pitched and eager. He was panting, desperation written all over his face as he looked to Nathan for  _ permission,  _ for some sign that it was  _ ok  _ to touch himself.

Nathan couldn’t quite contain a smirk. “Stand up.”

As soon as Duke was on his feet, Nathan crowded into his space. He backed him into the wall and pinned his wrists above his head with one hand. It seemed to have become  _ a thing.  _ A thing that Nathan very much liked. 

Duke seemed to feel the same way. He leaned against the wall, let him hold him upright, and his expression was pure, desperate  _ want.  _

Nathan took him in his free hand, fingers encircling the stiff flesh, and slowly stroked him. He wanted to memorise every response Duke made. Every shiver. Every flicker of his eyelashes, as though he wanted to keep his eyes open and couldn’t. Every whimper that he couldn’t contain in his throat as his pleasure grew.

“Please, Nate,” Duke whispered.

That  _ pleading,  _ that was exactly what Nathan had been waiting to hear. He stroked harder and faster, tried his best to imitate the rhythm he’d watched Duke use on himself last time, until Duke came with a soft noise that was halfway between a sigh and a moan.


	7. Duke

Duke dragged air deep into his lungs. His legs didn’t quite want to hold him up and he was grateful for the support of the wall behind him.

“That was….” Duke trailed off, unable to articulate exactly  _ what  _ that was because he couldn’t - he couldn’t quite  _ words  _ right now.

Nathan must have understood what he meant, though. “Yeah, me too,” he said, smiling, and passed Duke a box of tissues so he could get cleaned up.

By the time Duke was done, Nathan was fully dressed and he draped a blanket around Duke’s shoulders.

“Sit down,” he said, steering Duke in the direction of the couch.

Again. Again with the blanket. It had surprised Duke last time; enough that he’d  _ questioned  _ it which had resulted in a conversation that he suspected might have revealed way too much about himself given the way Nathan had immediately hugged him. 

Not that the hugging had been a bad thing, exactly, just  _ unexpected  _ and not part of his typical frame of reference. Which meant that he’d had some processing to do. Which, in turn, had led to the decision that he wasn’t going to be revealing anything else  _ personal  _ to Nathan. Not if he could help it, anyway, which was by no means a certainty because Nathan had always had a knack for seeing right through him.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said quietly, determined to raise at least a small protest against this - this  _ kindness _ . “You could just pass me my clothes.”

Nathan shrugged. “Feels too much like kicking you out.”

Which was probably a valid point. And at least this way he could bask in the afterglow for a few minutes before it was ruined by some inane conversation and a hurried pulling on of clothes so he could dash out of the door.

So he dropped his protest, sat quietly and took the bottle of water Nathan passed him.

“You ok?”

Duke smiled. Nathan was checking in. It was...sweet, how attentive he was. And having someone else take care of him...Duke didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but it was kinda nice. It held an element of vulnerability, a sense of still being in the scene, even after the inevitable conclusion.

Plus Nathan clearly needed it which meant that Duke could convince himself that he was a) tolerating it in response to what they’d just done, something which he ultimately created and had control over, and b) tolerating it for Nathan’s benefit.

Both of those options gave him an excuse, of sorts, something which meant that he didn’t have to think too hard about it. Or admit that he liked it.

“Duke? Ok?” Nathan asked again and Duke realised he hadn’t actually answered.

“Yeah. Fine. Good.”

“Sure?”

Duke glanced at him and smiled again. “Sure. Sorry, my mind wandered. That was really good.”

Nathan looked relieved, his features softening from a frown of concern into relaxed contentment. “Was for me too. Anything you need?”

“Uh, no. I’m good, Nate, really. You’ve, uh, you’ve got this aftercare stuff covered.”

Nathan smiled and threw his arms around him, making Duke laugh as he hugged him back.

“Ok, no, what is with all the hugging?”

Nathan tensed slightly, a subtle shift in his muscles that was barely noticeable. “Is it ok?”

“It’s - it’s fine, if it’s what you need. I don’t - I don’t mind it.”

Nathan relaxed and squeezed him more tightly for a moment before he let go. “Thanks. Just don’t want you to think I’m using you.”

“I don’t think that.” Duke said it to reassure Nathan but the second the words had left his lips he realised he meant it. He didn’t feel used. Which was...unusual. Feeling used was normally part of the appeal of doing this but he couldn’t deny that it was nice to  _ not  _ feel like that and it was no less intense for not having that element to it.

“Good. Want a beer, hand or two of poker?”

“Yeah, that’d be good. Thanks.”

Nathan smiled and passed him his clothes.

Even beer and poker was _ nice.  _ Relaxed. It gave him some breathing room without being left alone with his thoughts.

Over the years he’d developed his own method of post-scene aftercare - one which worked for him. Stretching his muscles and calming his mind with yoga. And maybe a glass or three of a good Scotch. Though, admittedly, that part maybe wasn’t so much self care as self medicating but whatever. It made him feel better.

It wasn’t until he got home that Duke realised - he wasn’t reaching for the whisky. He meditated for a few minutes, did a few yoga poses but he didn’t  _ need  _ it. Not in the way he had before. He didn’t - he didn’t even  _ hurt.  _ Nathan had managed to give him what he needed, the control, the intensity, the  _ escape,  _ without the pain.

Without the self loathing that usually filled him after a session.

It would be back in the morning, he had no doubt of that. It wasn’t so easy to escape from. But at least in the meantime he had something approaching  _ peace.  _ His mind was  _ quiet.  _ He’d gotten what he needed without pain, without injuries, without danger.

He didn’t think he’d ever be able to let go of needing  _ pain,  _ it was a part of him, it was a fucked up part of who he was, but this…? This  _ worked.  _

_ Dammit, Nathan.  _

*

“Heading out now,” Duke called over to Tracy. He’d just finished a mountain of paperwork at the Gull and he was beginning to think Nathan had a point about shooting whoever had invented paperwork.

“Another Friday night date? Careful boss, we’ll start thinking you’re getting serious about someone. ” She smirked at him. Actually  _ smirked.  _

Maybe she had a point with that. Maybe he should suggest a different night to Nathan, mix things up a bit. Every Friday was starting to sound suspiciously like a regular thing and he wasn’t sure that was a route he really wanted to go down.

“Third date right? With the cop?” Next to Tracy, Nora was grinning and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Duke rolled his eyes. “The rumour mill really does work overtime in this town. Shame it’s always wrong.”

Tracy snorted. “I can’t say I’ve ever noticed any inaccuracies in town gossip. So is it the cop?”

“We’re not  _ dating.”  _ Duke gritted his teeth and tried to work out how the hell he could escape from this very much unwelcome conversation.

“Just banging then.” Nora grinned some more, clearly delighted for the opportunity to pry into her boss’ private life which Duke thought was  _ highly unfair  _ considering he’d given Nora a job and a roof over her head. Surely that should have earned him at least a tiny bit of  _ privacy.  _

He raised his hand as though he was about to make a point - probably a very valid one - but then he groaned and dropped it. “Y’know what? Think what you like. You will anyway.”

“Definitely banging,” Nora was laughing now and Tracy looked as though she was trying hard not to join in.

Duke shook his head and turned around, flipping them the finger over his shoulder as he left.

He drove home, trying hard not to think about exactly what the rumour mill had to say or how the rumours had even started because he was certain he’d been discreet and he was at least reasonably sure that Nathan had been too.

As he showered and changed, he tried to work out exactly why he was so  _ bothered  _ by it. The town had always gossipped about him. Some rumours were true, others were outright lies, but he’d always been able to laugh them off. This was different. This was  _ personal.  _ More so than anything else the town had said about him.

And the thought that some of the more salacious details might have gotten out, that all the straight and strait-laced people of Haven might be  _ judging  _ him… That was a very uncomfortable thought.

By the time he reached Nathan’s, he thought he’d put it behind him - there was always the possibility that it had been Tracy and Nora having a joke at his expense - but apparently something still showed on his face because Nathan frowned as soon as he opened the door.

“Something happen?”

“What? No. Everything’s fine.”

Nathan gave him a look, one that said  _ yeah, right,  _ and Duke sighed. Nathan had always been able to see straight through him, there was no point in lying or trying to cover. Not about this.

“There’re rumours. About us. I think, anyway.”

“I heard.”

“Oh, so you know about these rumours? And you didn’t think to, I don’t know, mention it?”

Nathan gave him another look, an exasperated one this time. “Dwight said something. Today. ‘Bout how we’ve been spending time together and did I know what people were saying.”

“Great,” Duke spat out. “And what did you say?”

“Said I had no idea what he was talking about. I’m not - Duke, this is between us. These rumours...they haven’t come from me.”

Which answered the question that Duke hadn’t asked. He felt a rush of  _ relief  _ that Nathan hadn’t had anything to do with it. Not that he’d ever really thought he would have let anything slip but still. It was good to have it confirmed.

“Just town gossip. Let ‘em talk.”

“You’re really not bothered?”

Nathan shrugged and shook his head. 

“Why, Nate? The Chief of Police fucking the town criminal on his nights off. How is that going to be anything but bad for you?”

“Don’t have close friends. Don’t give a shit about anyone else.”

“Can’t see it doing much good for your reputation.”

“You’ve changed. You’re not who you were a few years ago,” Nathan said, reaching out to squeeze Duke’s shoulder. “Anyone who thinks you are, their opinion doesn’t matter.”

Duke nodded. Nathan’s fingers were warm where they gripped his shoulder. The contact helped to  _ ground  _ him, to give him something to focus on, to get his head back into the right place instead of worrying about stupid gossip and the even more stupid people who spread it.

“Yeah. Thanks. Sorry, for, uh, overreacting.”

Nathan shook his head and gave him a wry smile. “Don’t worry about it. What happens here stays here. Need you to know that.”

“Yeah, no, I do,” Duke said quickly, unsettled that Nathan had once again seen straight through him and had offered him the reassurance that he didn’t know he needed.

“Good,” Nathan said, releasing his shoulder. “You still want to do this? Or could just have a couple beers?”

“Oh, I  _ definitely  _ still want to do this,” Duke said, grinning more easily now he was back on the solid ground of what the evening was supposed to be about. “Lounge again?”

“Bedroom,” Nathan said, as succinct as ever.

And that - that ripped the solid ground right out from under Duke again.

Because the bedroom was  _ different.  _ It wasn’t the lounge or the kitchen or even the bathroom, where casual guests might go. It was the place where Nathan slept. Where he was most vulnerable. The bedroom was invite-only and he’d just been invited.

All of which sent one huge question racing through Duke’s mind - 

What the hell  _ was this?  _ If Nathan was inviting him into his bedroom, into his personal space, what the hell was this?

He half thought about arguing, at least raising the question -  _ are you sure, Nate? -  _ but that wasn’t the point of this. The whole point was to give up control and to not have to think or make decisions. This wasn’t his call. So he followed Nathan up the stairs and immediately found himself shoved up against the bedroom wall.

“You’ve really got a kink for this, haven’t you, Nate?”

“What about it.” Nathan sounded growly as he pulled at Duke’s shirt.

“Just an observation.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, we’re back to that are we? You telling me to shut up, me ignoring you…”

“Shut up, Duke.”

“Make me.” Duke lifted his chin and met Nathan’s eyes.

For a moment, he thought Nathan was going to. Was going to force him down onto his knees and  _ make him  _ be quiet. Then a muscle flickered in Nathan’s jaw and a shadow crossed his eyes; the only outward hints that Nathan was still almost  _ nervous  _ about this.

Duke softened. “I, uh. I didn’t say I minded. The wall thing, I mean.”

“Now who’s got a kink for it?” Nathan teased him back lightly and they were back on that solid ground again.

“I absolutely do have a kink for you pushing me into walls, yes.”

Nathan gave a tiny shake of his head and smiled. “Shut up, Duke.”

This time, Duke did. He leaned against the wall while Nathan unbuttoned his shirt with careful fingers that barely brushed his skin as he slipped it off his shoulders and dropped it to the floor in a thoroughly un-Nathan-like way that made Duke smile.

His pants followed. Nathan’s hand barely grazed over the bulge as he unzipped the fly and  _ how was he already so fucking hard?  _ Honestly, it was starting to get embarrassing, how quickly Nathan could get this reaction out of him.

Especially when Nathan stepped back and looked him up and down in what could only be described as an appraising fashion.

“Lie down on the bed.” Nathan was already turning away and there was clearly an assumption there. An assumption that Duke would  _ obey.  _

He nearly didn’t. He nearly argued. Except the argument he had wasn’t quite  _ formed.  _ Something about how they’d never even discussed going to bed together and how it was  _ intimate  _ and just  _ what the fuck?  _

But arguing would mean stopping. Or at least having a discussion that Duke would very much prefer not to have. So bed it was.

No sooner had he done what he was told, flinging himself onto the bed with a grin, than Nathan produced a set of handcuffs from his back pocket. Ones which Duke wasn’t even remotely surprised to see were police issue.

“Y’know, next time you arrest someone, you’re going to be thinking of this.”

Nathan’s face turned an interesting shade of red and he focussed intently on cuffing Duke to the headboard.

Duke’s stomach lurched violently as the cold metal surrounded his wrists, tightening with the ratcheting sound that he knew so well. He was trapped. No matter how much he trusted Nathan, he was  _ trapped.  _ He couldn’t get out of this. That aroused him as much as it terrified him.

Perhaps a glint of that fear showed on his face because Nathan leaned down to press a tiny metal object into his hand. Some of the tension left Duke’s body. He could pick cuffs. Nathan knew he could pick cuffs - had, in fact, seen him do it on more than one occasion - and he’d given him the key.

In short, Nathan had given him an  _ out.  _

“Ok?” 

“Yeah,” he said with a little nod.

Nathan smiled back and kneeled astride him, long denim-clad legs bracketing Duke’s thighs. The coarse material rubbed against his cock when Nathan leaned forwards to touch him and Duke stifled a moan because he couldn’t - he couldn’t be this turned on from just  _ this.  _

Sparks flickered across his skin as Nathan ran his hands over his shoulders, across his chest, dancing over his ribs. Gentle, teasing touches that gave him goosebumps. Harder ones, hard enough to hurt, not hard enough to bruise. Sharp nails across his nipples. He gasped, arching his back, his head thrown back to expose his throat.

An invitation that, apparently, didn’t escape Nathan’s notice because he wrapped his hand around Duke’s throat and squeezed. Not hard, nothing that would so much as restrict his breathing, just a  _ hint  _ of danger. A show of power. A tiny hint of  _ ‘what if’  _ that - no matter how much trust he had in Nathan, how much it  _ turned him on -  _ left Duke just a tiny bit  _ unnerved.  _

And that - that  _ almost-threat -  _ was compounded when Nathan leaned down, using his body to pin him even more firmly to the bed, and murmured in his ear.

“Got you right where I want you.”

Warm breath flowed across Duke’s skin. Nathan’s words sent a jolt straight to his cock. They were sharp, possessive; cold but full of heat -  _ I got you, I want you -  _ and Duke knew he was caught, completely at Nathan’s mercy. And Nathan had a plan.

He swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat flexing against Nathan’s hand.

Nathan grinned and pulled his hand away. He gave Duke a sharp nip, right over his pulse point and then finally -  _ fucking finally -  _ he sat up and reached for Duke’s cock.

His fingers barely brushed the head, the touch so light that Duke might have imagined it. It wasn’t  _ enough.  _ No sooner had Duke arched into the contact than Nathan’s fingers were gone again. He threw his head back, gritted his teeth against a whine. There was only one thought in his mind.

_ More.  _

He didn’t get a chance to say it. Or maybe he did, maybe the word escaped from him uninvited but right now he wasn’t sure of  _ anything  _ because Nathan had wrapped his hand firmly around his cock and was moving with hard, fast, strokes.

Each stroke brought him closer to the edge and words fell from Duke’s lips -  _ that’s it, like that, don’t stop and -  _

Nathan stopped. 

He stopped. He grinned when Duke’s cock twitched, seeking the lost contact. Below the grin, though, there was a flush of arousal - dark eyes and parted lips which he ran his fingers across, almost like he wanted to  _ taste  _ \- and he was holding tension in his body that couldn’t be explained by nerves alone.

“You think you’re calling the shots here? You’re not.”

_ Fuck.  _ As if being handcuffed and pinned to the bed wasn’t enough, now Nathan was being all dominant and  _ in charge  _ and that was - that was - 

Hot.

“Nate…” 

He’d barely finished speaking before Nathan’s long fingers were wrapped around him again, cool against the heat of his cock. Duke barely managed to suppress a whine. Nathan started to move his hand again; sure, fast movements that brought Duke closer and closer to the edge. This time Duke expected it. He knew. He knew Nathan was going to stop.

Even so, when Nathan took his hand away, Duke’s hips jerked, unconsciously fucking the air.

He was so hard it  _ hurt.  _ He bitterly regretted ever mentioning that he liked to be teased. Nathan seemed determined to push him to his limits - perhaps past them - and for the first time ever, Duke seriously considered using his safeword just so he could go home and jerk off.

Except that wasn’t why he was here. 

So he forced himself to stay quiet and lie still and  _ wait.  _

Nathan took him in hand again and Duke shuddered, desperate to come but almost too sensitive to be touched.

“Something you want?” Nathan was smirking as he moved his hand again. Slowly this time. So slowly it was exquisite torture. It wasn’t enough. It was nowhere near enough.

Duke begged openly, words spilling from his lips. He pleaded to be fucked. To be touched. To be allowed to touch himself, anything, but  _ please let him come.  _

For a moment, he thought it had worked. 

Nathan stroked faster, harder.

Liquid heat flowed through Duke’s body, pooled low in his belly. Every muscle tensed and quivered. He was right there - right on the fucking edge - when Nathan stopped and grinned.

His expression was one of almost sadistic amusement. Duke didn’t  _ know,  _ he’d had no idea that Nathan could  _ be like that.  _ That he could push this further than anyone ever had before. That he could take something he loved so much and turn it into something more like the punishment that he deserved.

It was. It  _ was  _ punishment. And it gave him exactly what he craved so much. Pain. Control. Escape. His mind was blank except for one thought - how much he wanted to come.

He was past the point of begging. He tried to form the words but the only sound that he managed was more like a sob of need.

Maybe that’s what Nathan had been waiting for. That sound of pure desperation. He started stroking again, quickly, and this time Duke knew he wouldn’t stop.

He couldn’t keep still. He flexed and arched; grasped the empty air with hands that wanted  _ touch  _ and  _ contact.  _ His breaths turned ragged, a whine on each exhale. It felt like  _ seconds  _ before his whole body tensed, the  _ rush  _ flooding through him, and he collapsed back onto the bed, boneless.

He couldn’t even keep his eyes open.


	8. Nathan

Duke’s eyelids fluttered closed and he stilled, more relaxed than Nathan had ever seen him. 

“Duke?” Nathan said quietly as he uncuffed him.

He was answered only by a soft sound of something that might have been contentment so he reached for the tissues and gently cleaned him up.

Not for the first time, Duke’s absolute trust in him threatened to overwhelm him. He stayed quiet, motionless, his eyes still closed as Nathan tended to him and gave no argument when Nathan lay down beside him to pull him into his arms. He just rolled over, buried his face in Nathan’s neck, and he was  _ definitely  _ nuzzling.

Nathan bit back delighted laughter at the rare show of affection. This would really not be a good time to  _ laugh.  _ Instead, he held Duke tightly, breathed in the warm scent of him, felt every thud of his heart, every deep breath that was almost a sigh.

After a few minutes, Duke stirred and stretched.

“Hey,” Nathan said softly.

“...uh…”

This time, Nathan couldn’t quite hold back his laughter. “That good, huh?”

Duke hummed his agreement; smiled another of those soft, sweet, unguarded smiles that Nathan felt so privileged to see. 

He thought Duke might object when he pulled the covers up over them but he seemed almost reluctant to move. Whether that was because he was more comfortable with the idea of aftercare or if he was actually just that out of it, Nathan didn’t know. Either way, he wasn’t inclined to ask the question. Not while Duke was accepting it. 

As they lay like that, Nathan’s arm thrown around Duke’s waist, Duke’s head resting on his other arm, the silence only disturbed by the quiet, regular, sound of Duke breathing, Nathan  _ processed.  _

Because there was a lot to process. 

What had started out as fulfilling Duke’s need, as a way to keep him  _ safe,  _ had turned into something that Nathan actively  _ enjoyed.  _ He got off on Duke whimpering and begging and uttering broken pleas because he could no longer  _ form words.  _ Not that he hadn’t enjoyed everything they’d done before - he had, because Duke enjoyed it - but this…? What they’d just done?

That got him going.

“Ok?” He checked in again, half wanting to make sure Duke really was ok, half just wanting to escape from his own thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

Duke pulled away, just slightly, just enough that Nathan could see how  _ sharp  _ his smile was. __ Not a wary smile, not exactly, but not as  _ honest.  _ Nathan felt a physical rush of pain that Duke’s mask slipped back into place so quickly.

“I’m sure. It was good, Nate. Better than good, in fact. Mind blowing would probably be more accurate. I dunno, how many compliments do you want?”

Heat rushed to Nathan’s cheeks. “Uh. Good. Glad it was good. Want a beer?”

“Yeah, that’d be good.” Duke didn’t hesitate for even a second, though he made no move to get up.

Perhaps it was a touch of wishful thinking on Nathan’s part, but Duke didn’t appear to be in a hurry to leave. For the first time, he seemed happy - genuinely happy - to stick around, rather than giving the impression he was just tolerating it for Nathan’s benefit. 

In fact, he didn’t move until Nathan did. Then he sat up and frowned. “You - Nate, you didn’t get much out of this. You want me to…?”

“Not, uh. You don’t need to. I…” Nathan trailed off, certain he was blushing furiously once again. “Might be that I’ll replay that memory for the next few days.”

The laughter that Nathan had anticipated didn’t come. Neither did a sharp comment or two. Duke just reached out and squeezed his shoulder, his hand warm through the cotton of Nathan’s shirt.

“You sure?”

Nathan nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Ok. But just so you know, I’m only not arguing because I know there’s no point. Remember what I said about needing you to enjoy it as well? I meant it.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, just making my point.” Duke smiled and nudged Nathan with his elbow, a casual gesture that had been part of them for as long as Nathan could remember.

“Ok.” Nathan gave him a tiny smile in return.

Duke nodded and started pulling his clothes back on. Somehow he managed to look just as good getting dressed as he did when he was getting undressed - a thought Nathan couldn’t shake while they drank beer and played poker. The  _ just fucked  _ look - the messed up hair, the sloppily buttoned up shirt, the easy smile - it was a good look on Duke.

By the time he left, it was late; much later than he would normally have made his excuses and escaped out of the door. Nathan decided clearing up could wait until the morning. He locked up and went straight to bed, fell into the still-rumpled sheets that smelled of  _ Duke  _ and  _ sex  _ and replayed the evening to fix it in his mind.

All the sounds and expressions Duke made. The way his beautiful body arched and responded to Nathan’s touch. The way Nathan’s own body reacted.

How much it turned him on.

Alone, in the dark, he allowed himself to think about that. Maybe he didn’t have the same desperate need for it as Duke did but he sure as hell wanted to experience  _ more.  _

He’d started out playing a part, putting on an act for Duke’s benefit, trying to be the person he thought Duke needed him to be. But now…? Now he was coming to terms with the fact that it was no longer an act. That he enjoyed the power - the  _ control -  _ that Duke gave to him.

Plans started to form in his mind and Nathan smiled to himself.

Duke wasn’t going to know what hit him.

*

After the sixth burglary, Nathan had come to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to be able to solve the case through detective work alone. He needed someone on the other side, so to speak, so he turned to the one person he trusted, the one person he knew with absolute certainty wasn’t involved but might be able to help him find who  _ was.  _

“Chief Wuornos,” Duke greeted him formally when he walked into the Gull at lunchtime. 

His face was unreadable - friendly but reserved. It was, Nathan knew, his  _ customer face _ and he couldn’t help wondering if the gossip that had been going round about them was still bugging Duke. On the off chance it  _ was,  _ Nathan decided to play along.

“Mr. Crocker,” he said with a nod. “Got a minute? Maybe in your office?”

Duke gave him a nod in return and led the way to his office. He quietly closed the door behind them and turned to Nathan with raised eyebrows. “Know you said you didn’t care about what anyone thinks but isn’t this just feeding the gossip?”

“Not a social call. Wanted to ask you about the spate of break-ins around town.”

Duke’s face shuttered -  _ hardened _ \- and, too late, Nathan realised the mistake in his phrasing.

“Oh, it’s me, right? There’s a crime in Haven and it’s me.”

“No, that’s-”

“Y’know, I really thought we were past this. I  _ trusted you.”  _

“Duke,” Nathan said quietly, closing the gap between them to rest his hand on Duke’s shoulder.

“No.” Duke pulled away, his hand raised to stop Nathan from following him. “No. You don’t - you don’t get to do that.”

Nathan’s heart sank into his boots. With one poor choice of words, he’d lost Duke’s trust. This time he might never get it back. Duke had given him enough chances, he knew that, and he appreciated every single one as much as he regretted every single time he’d given Duke a reason not to trust him. Including this one.

“Duke,” he said again. “Listen to me. Please.”

Defiance glinted in Duke’s eyes. Nathan was sure he was going to throw him out or walk away, refuse to listen, and everything they’d had would be gone. He kept his expression deliberately neutral and waited.

It paid off. After a minute, Duke nodded.

“Wasn’t asking if you did it. Was asking for your help finding out who did.”

Duke’s face softened, some of the tension falling out of his shoulders.

Nathan allowed himself a small sigh of relief.

“Oh. Yeah, I can do that.” Duke sounded somewhat cagey.

Nathan narrowed his eyes. “You already know who it was?”

“Maybe.”

Nathan just about managed to suppress the urge to roll his eyes but it was a close run thing. “Duke. It was Mrs. Sanders' place. Whoever it was stole her late husband’s wedding ring.”

Duke sighed theatrically. “Fine,” he said as he pulled out his phone and tapped out a text.

“What - or who - was that?”

“I can’t tell you who it was, Nate, you know that. I just text him and told him to give it back and keep his criminal activities well away from Haven because if he pulls that shit again, I  _ will  _ tell you who it was.”

“And that’ll work?”

“It’ll work.”

“Ok. Thanks, Duke. I should get back to the station. See you later?”

“I’ll be there. Seven?”

“Seven.”

*

Duke swept in, a whirlwind of energy that never failed to make Nathan smile. He paused just long enough to nudge the door closed with his hip before he followed Nathan to the kitchen and took the offered bottle of beer. 

He drained half of it in one gulp. “Mrs. Sanders get her ring back?”

“Yeah. Found it in her mailbox this afternoon with a note that said ‘sorry’ and had a smiley face on it.”

“Said I’d sort it.”

“Didn’t doubt it. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Duke took another swig of his beer, the muscles in his throat clearly defined as he swallowed. 

Which was...distracting. Nathan took a gulp of his own beer. “‘Bout the gossip stuff. Don’t know if this is worth much, but -” his shoulders twitched in a not-quite-shrug “- don’t care who knows.”

Duke’s smile was sharp and he let out a bitter laugh. “You mean I’m not your dirty little secret anymore?”

“No. You’re not.”

“Good to know.” The sarcasm practically  _ dripped  _ from his voice. 

Nathan’s heart sank that Duke  _ didn’t believe him;  _ that he’d lost so much of Duke’s hard won trust with his poor choice of words earlier. He squeezed Duke’s shoulder, lean muscle beneath soft fabric. “Why? Am I yours?” He quirked an eyebrow and smiled wryly, desperately trying to steer them onto safer ground.

“Nope,” Duke popped the  _ p  _ sound.

“Good to know.” Nathan smiled slightly even as he ran his fingers across his lips, acutely aware of Duke’s eyes on him.

Duke dropped his gaze and cleared his throat. “So are we, uh…?”

Nathan nodded and Duke put his now empty beer bottle on the counter.

“Lounge, or…?”

“Bedroom.”

Rather than appearing reluctant as he had last time, Duke led the way which gave Nathan an  _ excellent  _ view of his denim clad ass as he went up the stairs. A view that Nathan might have appreciated more if he hadn’t been so completely and utterly focussed on what they were about to do - and so determined to get it right to try to make up for getting things so wrong with Duke earlier.

An entire kaleidoscope of butterflies flitted around his stomach. Whether it was due to nerves or excitement, Nathan wasn’t sure, but he took a couple of deep breaths, told himself to stop being ridiculous, and followed Duke up the stairs.

He got into the bedroom a step behind Duke and closed the door. It seemed pointless given that there was no one else in the house but he figured Duke would appreciate the extra privacy.

“Strip,” Nathan growled at him. He tried to make it sound less like a request and more like an order but given the way Duke looked like he might be considering arguing, he thought he might not have quite hit the mark. 

In the end, though, Duke just let out a soft huff of almost laughter and started getting undressed.

He peeled off his layers slowly enough that Nathan wondered if he was deliberately giving him a show. Nathan took the opportunity to openly stare at him, admiring the way his muscles stretched and flexed, the way the ink flowed with each movement, the way his skin glowed almost golden in the soft light.

And then, when Duke was naked, Nathan crowded into his space and roughly forced him back against the wall. That really had become  _ their thing.  _ Duke didn’t call him out on it this time - a fact for which Nathan was profoundly grateful - but then judging by the way Duke’s cock was already nudging at his hip, he got the feeling that Duke had meant what he’d said about not minding it. 

He tangled his fingers into Duke’s hair and yanked his head back so his throat was beautifully exposed. Nathan nipped his neck, slowly worked his way lower; sucked the soft skin in the hollow between Duke’s neck and collarbone.

Duke stood quietly and  _ let him do it,  _ just a slight hitch in his breathing that turned into the hint of a whine when he realised what Nathan was doing.

Nathan pulled away to admire his handiwork. There was a small purple blotch, just high enough on Duke’s neck for him to have to be careful with what he wore for the next few days if he didn’t want anyone else to know that he was walking around with Nathan’s mark on him.

And that - that sparked a possessive streak in Nathan. One that he hadn’t known he had. One that was, apparently, a mile wide because the thought of Duke walking around with  _ his mark  _ on him, barely hidden beneath a shirt collar, was  _ hot.  _ Very, very hot.

“Stay there,” he barked out as he stepped back.

Duke gave him a slight nod and leaned his shoulders against the wall, a clear sign of his intent to  _ obey.  _ The barest hint of pink touched his cheeks; his eyes were dark and heavy, his lips parted, and he was more beautiful than ever.

Nathan tore his eyes away and started to get undressed. His fingers didn’t want to cooperate. They were weak, shaky; the buttons on his shirt took him longer to undo than they should have done. He cursed under his breath. He should have worn a t-shirt that he could have just pulled over his head.

And then he made things even worse. He stumbled as he pulled off his jeans and blushed furiously. There was no way Duke hadn’t noticed. He half expected to hear cruel laughter and a snarky comment.

Duke was gorgeous. He was elegant and coordinated and everything that Nathan wasn’t. Duke would never have stumbled over his pants. Nathan couldn’t help but wonder what he could possibly see in him.

But the anticipated laughter and snarking didn’t come and, his clothes now littering the floor, Nathan pressed back into Duke’s space. He was even more determined to get this right. To give Duke everything he needed and more. He didn’t want it to stop; didn’t want Duke to get bored and go looking for someone else. Someone he was more  _ matched  _ with.

Someone who might not treat him right.

Someone who might hurt him.

And not just that. Nathan wanted it for himself. He half wished he’d never discovered it because it was all he could think about. All the things he might do to Duke. All the things Duke might let him do. If he lost that…

He’d miss it.

He didn’t want to think about that too deeply. 

He pressed harder against Duke, pinned him to the wall with his hips, and grasped Duke’s wrists to push them above his head.

There was a tiny hint of resistance from Duke; just enough that Nathan had to work for it, had to use more pressure than he was really comfortable with. But he recognised it for what it was. A game. A show of  _ ‘I’m going to make you take this’.  _ Duke was playing a part and they both knew it.

With a soft grunt, Duke went pliant beneath his touch. He arched against Nathan, his breathing turning fast and ragged and  _ that -  _ that was why Nathan did this. Duke’s reactions. That was the point of the whole thing for him. If Duke wasn’t enjoying it then he wasn’t either.

But he was. He definitely was. 

“On your knees,” Nathan murmured into Duke’s ear. He let go of Duke’s wrists and stepped back. 

Duke did so, as eagerly as every time Nathan had asked before, but this time he smirked. “Yes, sir,” he said cheekily.

Nathan bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling and took hold of Duke’s hair to roughly tilt his head back. “You don’t need to talk.”

Whether from Nathan’s touch or from his words, Duke gasped, and nodded as best he could.

“Good. Suck.”

A heartbeat. Duke stared up at him. His eyes were wide and dark and full of intensity. Another heartbeat and his mouth was around Nathan’s cock. Hot. Wet. He sucked with an enthusiasm that left Nathan gasping for breath.

Every movement of his head, each stroke of his tongue, brought Nathan closer and closer to the edge. He wouldn’t last long. He  _ couldn’t  _ last long. Duke was too damn good at this and Nathan had a  _ plan,  _ so he - reluctantly - pulled him away.

“Bend over the bed.”

With typical feline elegance, Duke sprang to his feet, and did what he was told. He bent over the bed without a word, took his weight on his elbows with his ass held high as though he was presenting himself for Nathan.

Nathan hesitated and ran his fingers across his lips. The first time he’d done this had been easier. He hadn’t known what to expect; hadn’t had any preconceived ideas - and, more importantly, neither had Duke. It hadn’t mattered, then, if he fucked it up. Duke would have walked away and things would have been awkward for a while but they would have gotten past it. But now...

Now it  _ mattered.  _ For him, anyway.

He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and picked up his belt. He held it with the buckle end around his hand so the strap was free, and took another deep breath.

With a smooth movement, he drew his arm back, flicked his wrist and let the belt fall. It landed squarely across Duke’s ass with a crack that was loud enough to echo through the room.

So did the second. And the third. But Duke didn’t make a sound. Didn’t, in fact, react at all as Nathan hit him again and again, over and over until his arm was aching and Duke’s ass was red and  _ still  _ Duke was quiet.

Something which was decidedly abnormal for Duke. He was never quiet. He always had a quick word or a snarky comment or was annoyingly chatty, and he barely bothered to contain the sounds he made in the throes of pleasure but when it came to this…? When it came to pain…?

He was almost silent.

Only the tiniest stifled moans escaped from him. The more Nathan thought about it, the more it made sense. Duke didn’t want to show he was in pain, didn’t want to show weakness. Nathan wondered if giving Duke the pain he so desperately craved was helping him or harming him.

That was a conversation for another time. Another lifetime, maybe. One where Duke still trusted him enough to talk to him.

Nathan dropped the belt onto the floor with a soft clatter. He stepped over it and ran his hand across the red, heated skin of Duke’s ass.

That got him a reaction. 

Duke flinched away from the gentle touch in exactly the way he  _ hadn’t  _ when Nathan was hitting him. Nathan’s heart ached for him.

He wanted to say something - what, he didn’t know, but something, anything. Maybe something that would stop this, so he could wrap Duke up in a blanket and comfort him and tell him he didn’t need to keep doing this to himself.

If he did that, though…

Duke would walk away. Nathan was thrown back into his fear that if he wasn’t the one doing this, someone else would be and at least he  _ cared.  _ Whether Duke wanted him to or not. Whether Duke believed him or not. He  _ cared.  _

So he put those thoughts to one side, pulled away and reached for the handcuffs.

He closed them around Duke’s wrists, snugly but not too tightly and, as he had done before, pressed the key into Duke’s hand.

“Ok, Duke?” he asked quietly.

Duke nodded and shifted his weight slightly, wriggling his shoulders into the covers, pushing his ass higher.

“With words,” Nathan reminded him. Maybe Duke didn’t need to say it but he needed to hear it.

“Yeah, I’m - I’m good.” Duke’s voice had a raw and impatient edge that bordered on desperation.

Reassured, Nathan reached for the lube and condoms.


	9. Duke

He was bent over Nathan's bed, handcuffed, his ass still stinging from what had been a very thorough belting and Duke had to bite back the urge to  _ laugh.  _

Not because there was anything even remotely funny about the situation and Nathan's little check in had been very...sweet, but still. The urge was there. Call it a release of tension because there was - well, there was a lot of that. Bucket loads, in fact.

His own words echoed through his mind. 

_ Really, Nate? You want to slam me into a wall and leave me with bruises? Force me down onto my knees, make me call you ‘sir’ and shove your cock in my mouth just to shut me up? You want to put those police handcuffs to good use and fuck me hard enough that I can’t walk the next day? _

It had been an almost throwaway comment, one designed to push, to get Nathan off balance, but he’d taken it seriously. He’d taken it as a challenge and now he was following that brief scenario to the letter.

And that meant that Duke had a pretty fair idea of what to expect next. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, given that he was fairly sure the anticipation might kill him if Nathan didn’t hurry the fuck up, but he knew what was coming.

He didn’t have to wait much longer before Nathan’s fingers were pushing inside him, twisting and stretching him and Duke wanted to protest that he didn’t need that, he was ready and could Nathan just  _ fuck him already,  _ but then Nathan curled his fingers against his prostate and Duke’s thoughts deserted him.

Handcuffed and helpless, all he could do was gasp and arch and grind into the soft covers of Nathan’s bed. It wasn’t enough. The friction against his cock wasn’t enough. Nathan’s fingers in his ass weren’t enough, no matter how much he pushed back against Nathan’s hand.

“God, Nate,” he managed to choke out. “Fuck me. Please, just...fuck me.”

“What if I don’t? What if I just leave you here, hands still cuffed, bent over my bed, waiting for me to come back and finish what I started?”

Duke whined a wordless protest and ground his hips against the bed.

Nathan laughed softly. “Another time, maybe,” he said as he pulled his fingers out and immediately replaced them with his cock.

He slid in quickly. More quickly than was really comfortable. Duke breathed his way through the sharp burn, grateful that Nathan at least held still for a moment to give him a chance to adjust. 

As soon as the immediate pain had subsided, Duke pushed back against him only to be stilled by Nathan’s hand on the small of his back, silently telling him  _ ‘let me do this’.  _

And then Nathan fucked him. Just like he’d asked for. Hard and fast and just the right side of painful. That wonderful, sharp pain that brought him pleasure and escape. Pain that he loved so much. Craved, even.

In that moment, he didn’t have to think about anything else. There wasn’t  _ space  _ for anything else except the sensations running through his body as Nathan used him for his own pleasure, not giving a thought to Duke’s. 

Except he was.

Maybe not his pleasure, exactly, but he was  _ gentle.  _ His touch was gentle. His fingers ran over every stripe the belt had left on Duke’s ass. His other hand was tangled in Duke’s hair, resting lightly on the back of his head, and the contrast between the soft touch and the hard fucking took Duke deeper under Nathan’s control.

Soft whimpers fell from his lips. He turned his face into the covers to stifle the sounds.

“Don’t,” Nathan said, his voice low and hoarse. “Like hearing you.”

His words were like a jolt to Duke’s cock. Maybe it wasn’t even his words, maybe it was the way he sounded - raw and ragged and urgent and  _ close.  _

Duke removed his face from the covers, not bothering to try to contain the sounds that were a mix of pain and pleasure. He felt used. Taken. Controlled. 

It was everything he needed and more.

He cried out when Nathan's hand tightened on his hip, holding him steady for one final, hard thrust before he went still. Even through the condom he wore, Duke could feel him throbbing inside him.

He’d barely finished before he pulled out and took the key from Duke’s hand. He carefully uncuffed him and rubbed the marks the cuffs had left on Duke’s wrists before he stepped back.

“Get on the bed. On your back.”

Too deep into subspace to argue - or even speak - Duke did what he was told. 

Nathan stretched out beside him on the bed. He pressed close against Duke, hooked one leg over Duke's knee to nudge his thighs apart and reached for his cock.

Duke groaned. He barely managed to keep from thrusting up into Nathan’s hand, desperately seeking the contact. The pleasure. He held still and waited.

His patience was rewarded. Cool fingers circled his cock, moving slowly. Too slowly. Too lightly. Too fucking  _ gently  _ to be anything other than  _ torture.  _

He lost his battle to keep still, arching into Nathan’s touch, only to fall back with a sound that could only be described as a whine when Nathan immediately withdrew his hand.

“Something you want, Duke?” Nathan resumed his soft stroking and Duke’s breath caught in his throat.

“Want to come.”

“Are you sure?”

Which was, in fairness, a very good question. Being held there, right on the fucking edge, sensations coursing through him as Nathan’s touch danced on the brink of  _ too much  _ and  _ not enough… _ Duke loved it as much as he hated it. Loved not having any other thoughts in his head, loved the anticipation, the tease. But he was so hard it  _ hurt.  _ So sensitive that if Nathan so much as breathed on him, he thought he might shatter like glass.

Was he sure? Yes. Yes, he was very fucking sure.

“Oh god, please Nate. Please let me come, I can’t… I want - need - please, please faster, more,  _ fuck,  _ please, Nathan, please make me come.” The words fell from his lips, intense and exposed and  _ desperate.  _ They sounded like they were coming from someone else.

As desperate as they were, they must have been enough because Nathan tightened his grip, moved his hand faster and Duke's entire world narrowed to the feel of Nathan's fingers around him. 

Four strokes.

Four strokes was all it took before Duke spilled into Nathan's hand, crying out against the intensity of his release.

He sank into the bed, the tension seeping out of his body, only dimly aware that Nathan had moved away and was now cleaning him with a tenderness that Duke had never expected to see from him.

Once he was done, Nathan joined him back on the bed and rested his hand lightly on Duke’s jaw. “You ok?”

Duke was tempted to turn his face into the soft touch and nuzzle gratefully into the hand that had brought him so much pleasure and pain. Mostly though, he wanted to pull away, to close his eyes and escape this moment and the almost heart aching honesty in Nathan’s eyes. 

He couldn’t, though. Nathan’s hand was strong, gently but firmly not letting him look away, a last show of control and he had to  _ answer.  _

Was he ok?

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good, it was good,” he managed to gather his thoughts for long enough to speak and then, finally, Nathan dropped his hand away and pulled him into a hug instead.

That was better. He didn’t have to look at Nathan. Didn’t have to wear a mask or worry about what Nathan might read in his expression. He could bury his face in Nathan’s shoulder and pretend he was fine.

He wasn’t. He was nowhere near fine.

In fact, he was in serious fucking trouble.

Not because of what they’d just done, that was all good. Excellent, in fact. And that was the fucking problem. He hadn’t known. He didn’t know Nathan could  _ do that,  _ could be the person who pushed every button and found limits Duke hadn’t even known he had. To take something he loved so much and turn it into perfect, wonderful torture.

He’d gone into this whole thing fully expecting Nathan to be scared off. To try it once or twice and decide it wasn’t for him. But no. Nathan was throwing himself into this, was learning exactly what made Duke tick and each session was better than the last.

Which was great. Apart from one teeny, tiny problem.

Having said he wanted this to be just about sex, fulfilling a need, Duke now found himself craving more. What, he didn’t know. Just...more. Nothing that he wanted to put a label on yet, he only knew he wanted it to be something beyond their weekly sessions. 

Not that he’d ever suggest that. He knew what he was to Nathan. Someone damaged and broken who needed to be protected from himself as much as other people. He was a duty. An inconvenience. A problem to be solved. Not a partner. Not a person to be cherished.

In short, he was a fuck up and in no way worthy of  _ anything  _ from Nathan. He should be grateful for what he had, not having lofty aspirations of anything more substantial than a once a week hook up. No good could ever come of that.

So he buried those thoughts and tried very,  _ very _ hard to ignore Nathan’s hand gently rubbing his back. It was just sex. Nathan needed to show him some affection so he didn't feel like he was using him. That's all it was and if it helped Nathan, if it made sure this whole thing continued, Duke could deal with that.

It was harder to deal with when Nathan stopped rubbing his back and closed his arms around him instead. 

Strong arms held him tightly. Soft breath caressed his cheek. For a moment, Duke let himself forget that he wasn’t  _ allowed  _ this and relaxed into Nathan’s contact. Just for a moment. Barely more than a single breath, then he cleared his throat and pulled away.

“Got time for a couple hands of poker before I head out?” he said brightly. Too brightly. Too forced.

“Sure.” If Nathan had noticed the false lightness of his tone, he gave no sign of it.

“Beginning to think we should raise the stakes, play for money,” Duke said as he sprang out of bed and started pulling his clothes on.

“Be quicker if you just gave me your money.” Nathan stretched and Duke took a minute to admire him, all long limbs and wiry muscle, pale skin and those piercing blue eyes that gave him nowhere to hide.

Blue eyes that were now locked with his. He cleared his throat and dropped his gaze away but not before he noticed the small smile on Nathan’s lips.

“Yeah, yeah, c’mon then Mr. Confident. Put your money where your mouth is.”

Nathan’s smile turned into a grin as he got up and into his clothes. “You asked for it.”

_ Fair point.  _

*

Thanksgiving passed in a blur of chaos, due in no small part to Duke’s insistence that anyone in town with nowhere to go came to the Gull for a traditional lunch. That was then compounded by him also insisting that any of his staff members who wanted to spend time with family should take the day off - or the long weekend if they wanted to travel out of state. It had been  _ busy  _ and Duke rather thought that he’d earned a quiet day or two but no. As soon as Thanksgiving was over, the Christmas rush was upon them with almost every business in Haven holding their annual party at the Gull. More nights than not (Fridays excluded, of course, those were still reserved for his sessions with Nathan), he didn’t get cleared away and locked up until nearly two in the morning.

Tonight was one of those nights.

The last of the stragglers had left an hour before. The last of the staff, already dead on their feet after a long shift, had been sent home shortly after, leaving Duke to finish up alone. He dried the dishes, bagged up the trash and took it outside.

Even with the dim light still coming from the bar, it was dark. Duke trudged around to the back of the building, head down, his collar turned up against the icy winter rain that threatened to drip down the back of his neck. He was almost at the dumpster when movement caught his eye.

“Hey!” he called out sharply as he dropped the bag of trash. His hands curled into fists and he bitterly regretted the fact his nearest gun was currently locked in his truck because normal well-meaning people weren’t out and about at two o’clock on a freezing night and if they were, they didn’t tend to be lurking around dumpsters. Which meant that he was probably about to have to defend himself and that would be much,  _ much  _ easier with a weapon.

He barely had time to finish that thought before a small figure emerged from behind the dumpster and immediately tried to run off.

As quick as he was, Duke was faster - though not by much. Duke’s hand snagged the back of his collar and hauled him back, earning him a surprised yelp from the would-be intruder who stopped trying to run and started trying to throw punches instead.

“Ok, no, look, stop,” Duke said, surprisingly reasonably, he thought, given that he’d just taken a glancing blow to the jaw. He managed to grab hold of the young man’s wrists, preventing any further punches, though that didn’t stop him from trying to pull free. “Can you stop fighting me, please, I’m trying to  _ help.”  _

The young man stopped struggling quite so violently. He was small and slight, a head shorter than Duke, and so thoroughly bedraggled that it was obvious he'd been out here for a while. His light jacket was no match for a Maine winter night.

Duke relaxed his grip. “It’s freezing out here so whatever it was you were trying to do with my dumpster, can we talk about it inside, please?”

“Why the fuck should I?” The voice was high and sullen. Not a young man, a teenager. A kid. 

Duke’s heart sank. “Because I said so,” he said. He dropped the kid’s wrists, grabbed the back of his collar again, and frogmarched him towards the door.

To give him his due, the kid put up a valiant effort, struggling and complaining all the way. “Just let me go!”

“Let you go  _ where,  _ exactly? Let you go to freeze to death in an alley somewhere? Not happening, kid.”

There was no response and with one final shove, Duke managed to get him inside. As soon as he let go of the kid’s collar, he tried to run straight out of the door but Duke once again hauled him back and this time he shoved him none too gently into a chair.

“Sit down,” he growled. “And fucking stay there.”

The boy glared back at him, his jaw tilted in a gesture of defiance that Duke recognised as being all for show. There was no fight left in this kid. Dark eyes were underlined with blue; bruise like circles that stood out against the pale skin and hollowed cheeks.  _ Gods,  _ he was thin. Too thin. His clothes hung off his slight frame like rags. Water dripped from the ends of his unkempt hair, landing on his damp shoulders and he was trying hard not to shiver.

“Good. What’s your name? Doesn’t have to be your real one, just something I can call you.”

“Henry.”

“Duke. And how old are you, Henry?”

“Nineteen.”

Duke laughed. “Nice try. Honest answer this time, please.”

“Fifteen,” Henry mumbled.

_ Fifteen. Fuck.  _

Duke rubbed the back of his neck and leaned forward, elbows on the table between them. “Ok fifteen year old Henry, mind if I ask what you were doing in my dumpster?”

Henry shrugged and stared down at the floor.

Something he didn’t want to admit to, then. “Let’s make this simple. Food or shelter?”

“Neither. Wanted to see if you had anything worth stealing.”

“In - in a  _ dumpster?  _ Do I look like the sort of person who puts anything worth stealing in a fucking  _ dumpster?”  _

Henry shrugged again and Duke sighed.

“Ok, look, why don’t I go get you something to eat? There’s a shower in the office, you can get warm and clean and I’ll sort some clothes for you. They won’t fit but what you’re wearing now doesn’t fit so nothing lost there. Once you’re warm and dry and fed, we can talk. How’s that grab you?”

“Don’t need your help.”

“Uh - apparently you do.” 

“Why would you want to help me anyway?” Henry asked with a cocky little lift of his chin. “Some sort of perv or something?”

Duke couldn’t help laughing. “That’s exactly what I would’ve said if someone had offered to help me when I was your age. Except no one did so think of it as me offering the help that I didn’t get.”

That seemed to give Henry pause - he was looking thoughtful rather than sulky and he leaned forwards, mirroring Duke’s pose. “You needed help?”

“Yeah, kid, I’ve been there. Trying to find anywhere warm and dry to sleep, going through dumpsters for food. It sucks and that's understating it. So get yourself sorted and we'll talk.”

Henry nodded and obediently followed Duke into the office. Duke grabbed some clothes out of the go-bag he kept in there. He handed them to Henry, pointed out the shower, and left him to it.

In the kitchen, he started cooking. As he boiled and chopped and sauteed, he tried to work out what the fuck he was doing. He should be calling the police, not taking the kid in and feeding him. 

That would be counterproductive, though. The cops wouldn’t be able to hold him and Henry would just bolt as soon as he could - probably far away from Haven. Maybe he’d do that anyway but this way Duke could make sure he had somewhere safe to sleep for one night and at least  _ try  _ to earn his trust.

He could do that much. Even if it wasn’t enough.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the kitchen to find Henry sitting at the same table as before, warm and dry and looking a whole lot more relaxed than he had been twenty minutes ago. Which made him look even younger. Duke couldn't help wondering if that was how he'd looked back then. A kid pretending to be a grown up.

He set the plate and cutlery down in front of Henry. Chicken, vegetables, plain pasta. It wasn’t anything exciting, but it was hot, it was food and there was plenty of it. If Henry hadn’t eaten for a while (and Duke suspected he hadn’t), it would be easy and gentle on his stomach which was something Duke had learned from bitter experience to be careful about.

Henry ate ravenously, shovelling forkfuls of food into his mouth faster than he could swallow them.

“Slow down, Charlie,” Duke said. The wrong name was a deliberate choice, a way of testing, of  _ poking,  _ to see if Henry was who he said he was. Or perhaps to see if he could maintain a lie without tripping up. Either way, it would be useful information. “You’ll make yourself sick if you eat that fast. Trust me, I learned that the hard way.”

“Henry,” he mumbled around a mouthful, the response too quick and too automatic to be anything but the truth.

“What’s that?” Duke kept up the pretence for a moment longer.

Henry swallowed. “You called me Charlie just now, my name’s Henry.”

“Right, right, sorry,” Duke said with an airy flick of his hand, aimed in the direction of his head as if to say ‘what was I thinking?’. “It’s late, been here since eleven this morning. Want a soda?”

“Yes please.”

Duke nodded and got up to fetch Henry a soda, taking his time so as to give him a chance to eat without being watched. As well as the soda, he came back with a large mug of hot chocolate, complete with whipped cream and marshmallows.

“Figured it was too cold for ice cream but next best thing, right?” he said, putting them both down on the table.

Henry’s eyes went wide. “Yeah, thanks.” He took a sip of the soda and immediately reached for the hot chocolate.

“No problem,” Duke said easily. “So, uh. Your parents know you’re out here?”

Like his earlier use of the wrong name, the question was calculated. Duke asked it to get a reaction - not to get a rise out of Henry, but to get  _ information  _ to help him work out just what the fuck was going on with this kid and what sort of help he needed.

A reaction is exactly what he got. Henry’s eyes locked onto Duke’s, wide and staring, and he hunched over the table with his arms crossed in front of him. A muscle flickered in his jaw and his voice wasn’t entirely steady when he spoke. “Y-yes.”

Which told Duke exactly what he needed to know. Everything about Henry now screamed  _ ‘fear’.  _ His parents had no idea where he was, which was exactly how Henry wanted it and that spoke of something deeper than just a teenager running away over a homework argument or a disagreement over a curfew time, or even parental disapproval of a relationship.

“Uh huh. Thought not,” Duke said, keeping his tone casual, not accusatory but still calling out the obvious lie.

"You gonna call them?” Henry asked, the words tumbling from his lips so fast that they almost merged into one.

“Nope.”

Henry visibly relaxed. He uncurled himself and sipped at the hot chocolate. Froth clung to his upper lip and he ran the back of his hand over his mouth to clear it. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Look, it’s late and I’m beat. The apartment upstairs is empty at the moment. You need somewhere to sleep for tonight, it’s yours.”

Henry nodded, relief clear in his eyes.

“Ok.” Duke stood up and waited for Henry to follow him. “Let’s get you settled then I can finally lock up and go home.”

The apartment upstairs was empty but well stocked. Duke kept it as a bolthole - for himself or anyone else who needed it - so there were toiletries, some basic food staples, a few clothes and a burner phone which he passed to Henry.

“In case there’s anyone you want to call,” he said by way of explanation. He scrawled his phone number on a piece of paper and passed that to Henry as well. “And that’s in case you need me, specifically.”

“Thank you,” Henry said politely, fiddling with the phone to switch it on.

“You’re welcome. House rules - don’t wreck the place, don’t leave it unlocked, don’t do anything that’s gonna get the cops called. There’s some food here and I’ll be back at eleven tomorrow morning. If you’re still hungry, I’ll make you something then.”

“Thank you,” Henry said again, staring at the floor. He was clearly overwhelmed - tired too, probably. Duke could understand that.

“Ok, I’m gonna head out. See you in the morning.”

With that, Duke left. He closed the door behind him and left Henry to (hopefully) a good night’s rest.

By the time he got home, he’d started wondering what the fuck he’d gotten himself into.

Despite the late hour and his bone-deep exhaustion, he sat down and poured himself a glass of whisky, then another one, drinking faster than the twenty year old Glenfiddich really deserved. A lot of memories had been thrown up by Henry’s appearance. Memories that he’d really rather drown in good whisky.

Not that it was particularly successful. Flashes of his own memories merged with possibilities of what might have happened to Henry and how he might have ended up living rough. It  _ hurt.  _ It hurt to think of another kid going through the same things he’d gone through. Kids deserved better. Henry deserved better.

Hell,  _ he’d  _ deserved better.

There wasn’t enough whisky in the world to clear those thoughts so, after the fourth glass, Duke slammed the bottle on the table (carefully, it was too good a bottle to risk smashing it) and went to bed.

Sleep didn’t come, which was hardly surprising. The change of location had steered his thoughts in a new direction, though, which was something. Progress. Of a sort.

Except it wasn’t.

It really wasn’t.

Because now Duke’s thoughts were on how to help Henry. Which is where he drew a blank. He had absolutely no idea how to help the kid beyond giving him enough money to go wherever he wanted to go. Not exactly a long term plan. At fifteen, Henry wouldn’t be able to get a place to live, or a job, or credit, or...well, pretty much anything. Hell, he couldn’t even  _ drive.  _ He needed safety and security and a role model and to finish school and three meals a day and eight hours sleep a night and he wouldn’t get that if Duke just gave him a wad of cash and sent him on his way.

The possibility of Henry staying with him, either in the apartment at the Gull or here on the Rouge, briefly crossed Duke’s mind before he dismissed it as being A Very Bad Idea. He was no role model for a kid. He could barely keep his own life straight, let alone influence Henry in the right direction. Not to mention all the legal hoops he’d have to jump through. With his record, there was no chance at all that he’d be approved as a foster parent and he had no idea where to even start.

Between the whisky and the fact it was now close to five in the morning and he didn’t do his best thinking at five in the morning, it took him longer than it should have to remember that while  _ he  _ had no idea how to help Henry, he knew people who  _ did.  _ He picked up his phone and sent a text.

_ Need your help. 10.30 at the Gull? Will explain then. Not in trouble. _

Text sent, he closed his eyes and finally managed to grab a few hours of fitful sleep.

*

Morning came too soon. Duke blinked against the soft, grey light that was filtering in through the portholes. Rain still hammered down on the deck. If it hadn’t been for that, he might have regretted his decision to ask Nathan for help but there was no way he was sending Henry out for another cold and wet night out on the streets. He hauled himself out of bed and checked his phone to find five missed calls, three voicemails and seven texts. They were all from Nathan and all progressively more worried-sounding. He dashed off a quick reply to the effect that everything was fine, more or less, and he’d see Nathan at ten thirty, then got himself showered and dressed.

After a quick cup of coffee (and really, he needed to do something about his coffee addiction because it was ridiculous, not being functional until he’d had caffeine), he jumped into his truck and, ten minutes after that, he pulled into the parking lot.

Despite being fifteen minutes early, the Bronco was already there. He didn’t even have a chance to pull on the parking brake before Nathan had jumped out and raced over to Duke’s truck with an expression as dark as the rain clouds above them.

“What the hell, Duke?” he growled as he yanked the door open.

“Sorry, sorry,” Duke said, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Look, can you - can we just go inside and I’ll explain.”

Nathan gave him a curt nod and took a step back so Duke could get out and walk over to unlock the main doors to the Gull.

“Coffee?” Duke offered once he’d switched the lights on.

“Fuck coffee.” Nathan was still sounding growly and he perched on the edge of a table, his arms folded across his chest. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Ok, no, can you stop being a dick first, please.” 

Nathan said nothing, but he did tilt his head as if to say ‘yeah, ok, sorry’. His eyebrows softened and his shoulders relaxed and he did at least look as though he was willing to listen so Duke took a deep breath and started to explain.

“Need your help, in a professional capacity.”

“Ok…And you couldn’t call 911, or the station?”

“No. Needed someone I trust.”

“Someone you - Duke, what’s going on?”

“There’s this kid…” 

Duke briefly filled Nathan in on the salient points of the night before, leaving out the part where Henry punched him and any mention of Henry’s name or age or anything else that might identify him if Nathan decided not to help in a constructive way. Which was always entirely possible. Nathan wasn’t averse to a bit of rule breaking, but only when it suited him and Duke wasn’t at all convinced that he was a good enough reason to bend those rules. 

When he finished, Nathan was trying (and failing) not to smile which - honestly, Duke couldn’t decide if that was a good sign or not.

“What?” he asked, somewhat indignantly. “Why are you smiling?”

“Nothing,” Nathan said, resuming his usual poker face. 

“No, not ‘nothing’. What about this situation could possibly make you smile?”

“You. Wanting to help this kid. It’s...sweet.”

“Fine, fine, I’m sweet, can we not tell anyone that, please?”

Nathan nodded. “Ok. I can help but Duke, anyone on duty last night could’ve helped you out with this.”

“Not exactly…”

To his credit, Nathan did  _ try  _ to stifle the groan that fell from his lips. “What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?”

Duke took another deep breath. “Gloria takes in foster kids.”

“Gloria? As in - the ME?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh. Never knew that.”

“There any way you can swing it that Henry goes to her instead of a group home? Or - or - I just want him to go somewhere he’ll be  _ safe.  _ More than anything, I want to make sure he doesn’t get sent home.”

“You said you think his family’s abusive?”

Duke nodded. “Reading between the lines.”

“He’ll have to tell me, make a statement. You think he’s ready to do that?”

An excellent question. One which Duke didn’t really know the answer to. Based on Henry’s reaction to being asked about his parents, he thought it might be a tall order to get him to trust a cop, to trust in the system not to let him down and dump him back into a situation he’d fought to escape from. Or to drop him into an even worse one. 

But Duke had excellent persuasion skills so what it came down to was - did he trust Nathan enough not to let Henry down?

“No. But I think if I talk to him first, he might be persuadable.”

“Ok,” Nathan said, nodding slowly. “Go talk to him. I’ll make some calls, see if we can swing it for him to go to Gloria.”

He’d barely finished speaking before Duke raced up the stairs and hammered on the door of the apartment.

Henry was already up and looking a million times better than he had the night before. “Hi,” he said hesitantly as Duke bustled in.

“Morning. Sleep ok?”

“Yeah, thanks for all this. Guess I’ve gotta leave now.”

“Not exactly,” Duke said cagily.

An expression of what could only be described as relief flooded Henry’s face.

Duke continued. “Ok, look, I need you to listen to me and not freak out or try to run out of here. Can you do that?”

Henry nodded.

“Good. So. I can’t give you the help you need but I do know people who  _ can.  _ There’s a friend of mine, downstairs. He’s a cop - I know, you probably feel the same way about cops as I do but you can trust him, I promise.”

A flicker of fear crossed Henry’s eyes and yeah, he’d definitely come across the same sort of cops as Duke did when he was a kid (and older). He shook his head. “I’ll just get sent home again.”

“Ok, look, tell me if I’m way off here but - abusive family, right? You’re not safe if you go back?”

Henry nodded, tears shining in his eyes and Duke squeezed his shoulder.

“Been there,” he said sympathetically. “But if you make a statement to Nathan, tell him what happened and why you aren’t safe if you go back, he’ll make sure you never have to.”

“Where will I go instead?” Henry asked, his voice choked and small and terrified.

“Nathan’s making some calls now so I can’t be definite on that at the moment but he’s trying to get you a placement with a friend of mine. Her name’s Gloria, she’s old and cranky and she drinks too much but she cares. She’ll give you a safe place where you can recover and grow in your own time. I’ve met some of the kids she’s fostered before, they all say she’s amazing.”

“I could really go there? Be safe?”

“And warm and well fed and you can go back to school. If Nathan can’t get you placed with her, he’ll make sure wherever you go is the same.”

“You really trust him?”

“With my life,” Duke said gravely, only half surprised to find he meant it.

Henry managed a small smile. “Then so do I.”

“You’ll talk to him? Make a statement?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Duke smiled at the expression of almost grim determination, at Henry’s absolute willingness to do whatever was necessary for them to help him. A tinge of unease ran through him, though. What if he failed? Specifically, what if  _ Nathan  _ failed? What if, between them, they let this kid down, sent him back to his abusive family, a group home or a foster home that might be even worse? What if he ended up on the streets again, would he come back to Duke to ask for help again or would he struggle and end up cold and hungry and rummaging through dumpsters? 

He squashed those thoughts down,  _ hard.  _ Wasn’t going to happen. He’d gone to Nathan specifically because he trusted him to  _ not fuck this up.  _ Because he trusted him to not let Henry down in exactly the same way Haven PD had let Duke down all those years ago. Henry would be fine. He had people willing to fight his corner and that was more than Duke had ever had.

He cleared his throat and smiled. “Ok, let’s go get you breakfast, then you can talk to Nathan.”

Downstairs, Nathan had taken off his gun and badge in an attempt to look less threatening but to anyone who knew their way around cops, everything about him screamed  _ law enforcement.  _ Duke couldn’t blame Henry for baulking at the door.

“It’s ok,” he said, leading the way inside. “This is Nathan, he’s actually quite nice when he stops scowling and takes that stick out of his ass.”

Nathan gave him a look that wordlessly said  _ ‘really?!’  _ but Duke ignored him in favour of gently nudging Henry towards the table.

Once they were both seated and Nathan had rearranged his face into something vaguely more reassuring than the perpetual scowl he wore when he was working, Duke relaxed slightly.

“Ok. Coffee and pancakes before we get down to business?” he asked.

Nathan looked like he was about to refuse but Henry piped up and said “yes please” before he could even get a word out. 

Duke gave Nathan a smug grin and dashed into the kitchen before he could raise any objections. He made the coffee first and ran back out with that, just so that he could check that Nathan hadn’t put his foot in it and scared Henry off but they were happily engaged in a conversation about whether Luke Skywalker or Captain America would win in a fight so he put the coffee on the table and went back into the kitchen, relieved that Nathan had reached Henry and put him at ease.

By the time he came back out with pancakes, Henry had uncurled himself and was making animated lightsaber gestures with his hands, laughter in his voice as he spoke. It almost seemed a shame to interrupt them - Nathan was smiling too - but the pancakes would get cold in a few minutes so Duke went and sat at the table with them and joined in the conversation, coming down firmly on Henry’s side that Cap would win because of the super serum and vibranium shield.

After he’d cleared the plates away, he topped up all of their coffee mugs. He’d barely sat down again before Nathan’s expression turned serious. Duke could feel Henry practically quaking beside him and was about to say something (hopefully) reassuring but Nathan gave him a minute shake of his head and a moue of his lips to say  _ ‘don’t’  _ so he sat quietly and waited instead.

“So, Henry,” Nathan started. While his expression was all business, his voice was gentle. Duke recognised it as the same voice Nathan had used on him the day he picked him up from the hospital. His  _ ‘dealing with victims’  _ voice. “Duke filled me in a little bit on your situation. He explained what I need from you?”

Henry nodded. “He said I need to tell you what happened, make a - a statement.”

“That’s right. You think you can do that?”

After a quick glance at Duke, who gave him a reassuring smile, Henry nodded again. “Yeah, I - I think so.”

“What about -?” Duke started to say before another look from Nathan made him stop again.

“Ok, good. So we’re gonna do that at the station later, with a DCFS representative who can sit with you while we go through everything. I’ve made some calls already and they’re sending over Vickie.”

“Vickie?” Duke interrupted. “Vickie’s cool, you’ll like her, she’s one of Gloria’s kids.”

Nathan broke his serious face to offer a small smile. “She is, which brings me on to my next point. Gloria has space and DCFS are happy for you to go there. Tonight.”

Duke grinned, allowing the relief he felt to show on his face. Relief that was mirrored in Henry’s expression.

“I can?” he said quietly. “I won’t have to-?”

“You’ll be safe,” Duke said. “And warm. And dry. And you’ll have plenty of food.”

A single tear ran down Henry’s cheek. He nodded, unable to speak through the swell of emotion. 

“You’re not going back, Henry,” Nathan said, quietly and seriously. “Need that statement and I’ll get everything wrapped up officially. You have my word on that.”

Henry nodded again and Duke gently squeezed his shoulder, feeling how hard he was shaking.

“It’s over, Henry,” he said quietly. “It’s over. Go with Nathan and promise me one thing?”

“What?” Henry mumbled thickly, then sniffled.

“You get into any trouble again, anything isn’t working out for you, you come to one of us.” Duke gestured between himself and Nathan.

Nathan nodded agreement. “I’ll make sure you have my number, you can call anytime. We’re here to help. Even if I’m not on duty.”

Henry nodded once more. “Thank you,” he said in a very small voice. “Both of you.”

“Anytime,” Nathan said. “You got any stuff you need to grab before we go?”

“Yeah, just my bag, it’s upstairs.”

Once Henry had run off to get it (and he did run, clearly eager to get the statement over and done with), Duke gave Nathan a small, soft, smile. “Thanks,” he said. “Knew I could trust you.”

“Welcome,” Nathan said gruffly. “Maybe next time you could make your message asking for help a little clearer? Or answer your phone when I call?”

“Aww, were you worried?” Duke teased.

“Yes.”

“Careful, Nate, anyone’d think you care.” And that was  _ wrong,  _ the words felt wrong as soon as they left his lips but he couldn’t take them back now. They were said. Duke braced himself for whatever Nathan fired back at him.

“I care.”

And  _ wow,  _ that was very much not the response Duke had been expecting. He’d been expecting snarking or something cutting, or even something downright shitty, perhaps another lecture on the ways Duke was letting him down but no. Just a simple, honest statement.

One that Duke believed.

As he flailed for an appropriate response (and what  _ was  _ an appropriate response to someone saying they cared? Duke had no frame of reference for that), he was spared having to answer by the return of Henry, complete with his bag, who hopped from one foot to the other in a show of nervous excitement.

“Good to go?” Nathan checked.

Henry nodded eagerly so Nathan stood up and pulled on his police windbreaker, all business once again.

Duke watched them leave, watched Henry trail in Nathan’s footsteps out to the Bronco, and relief flooded through him, warm and comfortable.

Henry would be safe.


	10. Nathan

Nathan strode out of the station and slammed the door behind him. Well, he didn’t so much slam it as he let go of it and didn’t care if it  _ did  _ slam.

He definitely slammed the door of the Bronco when he got in, though. He pulled it shut behind him with a satisfyingly loud bang that made the old truck wobble on its wheels. Normally he would have winced and apologised to the old girl. Not today. 

Today he could only grit his teeth and sit there, quietly seething at the world and everyone in it.

It had been A Day. One that hadn’t started particularly well when he’d arrived at the station to find the coffee maker had broken and no one on the night shift had bothered to even try to fix it. It had gone downhill from there. The mountain of paperwork seemed to multiply by the day and he’d been going through the overnight arrest reports when a name had jumped out at him.

Patrick Grolsch. Patrick fucking Grolsch, Haven’s smarmiest, smuggest asshole of a lawyer, had been arrested for drink driving. He’d spent the night in the cells, had used his phone call to ring the mayor and, from what Nathan had managed to garner from a brief chat with Dwight who had overheard the conversation, had basically offered the mayor a substantial donation to his reelection campaign if he could sort out what Grolsch had described as a ‘little problem’.

Which meant that Nathan had spent the day fielding calls from the mayor’s office until, under threat of losing his job, he’d been forced to release Grolsch without charge.

That hadn’t even been the worst of it. No, the worst had been when Grolsch was released from the cells and spent ten minutes phoning all of his friends to brag about what he’d done. He hadn’t even  _ learned  _ from it. Hadn’t stopped for one single moment to think about what might have happened. Nathan was at the point where he didn’t much care if Grolsch got himself hurt or killed but he very definitely cared about anyone who might get caught up in the wreck that Grolsch would cause one day.

This time, no one had been hurt, he’d pranged his BMW and that was it. Next time could be a different story.  _ Serve and Protect.  _ That was Nathan’s job. To serve the town and protect its people and to make sure no one got hurt. That was his job and he’d been prevented from doing that by an asshole with more money than goddamn sense who’d bought himself out of trouble, and a mayor who was more interested in getting reelected and continuing his political career than in serving the citizens who had put him in office in the first place.

White hot anger rushed through him. His hands shook from gripping the wheel too hard. He sat and took some deep breaths, composing himself before he drove home. It helped, a little. Enough, anyway.

After he’d parked the truck - abandoned it on the drive would be more accurate; there was barely enough room for Duke to park behind it when he arrived - he strode inside and slammed the front door closed, a symbolic gesture of shutting out the world, of leaving his day  _ outside,  _ of not bringing it home with him.

Not that it really worked. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Patrick fucking Grolsch’s fucking smug fucking face and he wanted to  _ hit  _ something.

He settled for kicking off his boots and stomping into the kitchen. Well, as much as someone  _ could  _ stomp in just socks, which wasn’t particularly well. But the intent was there.

In the kitchen, he opened and closed a few cupboards, slamming them for good measure, and eventually opened the fridge and took out a beer. He stood there, drinking, until Duke knocked on the door.

“Good week?” Duke asked as he brushed past Nathan on his way inside.

It was automatic now, just something that they did, that little check in. They’d never say ‘how are you?’ because that would be too personal, it would be too much, but asking if it had been a good week, that seemed ok somehow.

Except this time, Nathan couldn’t answer, he barely grunted a response.

Duke studied him, his head tilted to one side as though he was assessing before he spoke next. “Want to take it out on me?” he said after a moment, his tone light.

“What?” Nathan said sharply. “No. No that’s - that’s not what this is about.”

Duke shrugged. “Kinda what I’m here for. I want to hurt, you need to release your stress. Works for both of us.”

“No,” Nathan said again. He couldn’t use Duke like that. He couldn’t unleash all of his bottled up frustration and take it out on Duke, on his skin, leave him bruised and sore. Hurt.

More than that, he was sickened that Duke still thought he wasn’t worth any more than that. He still thought that he deserved it. Nathan’s hands clenched into fists as another burst of white hot anger burned through him. He was  _ furious  _ all over again. Not at Duke, but at everyone who’d had a part in making him believe that, at all the people who had hurt him in the past and let him think it was his fault.

“No?” Duke ignored Nathan’s clenched fists and stepped into his space.

“No. Right now...wouldn’t have enough self control. Might go too far. Giving you what you want is one thing. You’re talking about something else. Not that person, Duke.”

“So how about this, then?” Duke murmured into his ear, warm breath across sensitive skin. He dropped to his knees and deftly unbuckled Nathan’s belt, undid his pants and slid them down his thighs along with his briefs. 

Nathan knew - he  _ knew  _ he should stop him, should tell him he didn’t have to do this, that he was worth more than this but then Duke’s hand was on him, working him to full hardness and any objections he might have made dried up in his throat. Objections that left him completely when Duke ran his tongue up the underside of his cock. 

He barely had time to register the sensation of that before Duke wrapped his lips around him, gazing up at him with eyes full of heat and desire and want before he sank down to deepthroat him in one smooth movement. Tight, slick warmth encased him. All Nathan could do was lean back against the counter. 

Until Duke moaned around him. Vibrations raced through Nathan’s cock and he was  _ gone.  _ He fucked into Duke’s mouth, his hand clenched in Duke’s hair to hold him still. He could hear the noises Duke was making. He gagged and gasped for breath. Nathan didn’t care.  _ Couldn’t  _ care. He was lost in pleasure. His world narrowed to the feel of Duke’s throat around him. Nothing else existed. There were no other thoughts in his head. Only how fucking good it felt.

When Duke swallowed around him, the tightness, the  _ exquisite tightness,  _ pushed Nathan over the edge and he came with a loud groan.

Duke pulled off with an audible pop and sat back on his heels. His face was red, his eyes were streaming and as Nathan watched, he wiped a stray bit of come off his lips and sucked it off his finger.

“Duke,” Nathan said quietly, brokenly. “I’m-” He cut himself off with a choked sound. Nothing he could say would make up for what he’d just done. He yanked his briefs and pants back up and sank to the floor where he sat with his head in his hands.

Bitter regret flowed through him, so sharp he could taste it at the back of his throat. This wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t  _ that person.  _ He’d sworn to himself when they first started this that he wouldn’t be  _ that person.  _ He’d even said the words to Duke, barely five minutes before. 

And yet here he was. He was just as bad as everyone in Duke’s past. He’d let the stress of a thoroughly  _ shit  _ day spill over into their activities and now - now -

He should have cancelled. Should have said no. Should have done something. Anything. Anything except what he’d done. He should never have started this whole thing. Should never have trusted himself to take care of Duke in the way he deserved to be. He hadn’t  _ wanted  _ to use Duke but he had anyway. 

Duke sank to the floor beside him. 

Nathan couldn’t even look at him. “Sorry,” he mumbled, only dimly aware of Duke’s arm around his shoulders. In another context, he would have been pleased that Duke was offering affection. But now it seemed wrong. It was comfort that Nathan didn’t deserve.

“Nate, I’m fine,” Duke said. He didn’t  _ sound  _ fine. He sounded hoarse. Sore. Used. 

That sparked off a whole new round of self loathing in Nathan. He pulled away but he didn’t get very far before he was dragged roughly into Duke’s arms once again. This time, he couldn’t bring himself to move away. 

With a soft sound that definitely wasn’t a sob, he buried his face in Duke’s shoulder; melted against him when Duke rubbed his back with calm, soothing strokes. He barely heard the soft words that Duke murmured to him. He definitely didn’t remember them afterwards. He just remembered that they were gentle and comforting and so very unlike Duke’s usual quick wit and sharp words.

Lulled by the almost tender contact and Duke’s low voice, Nathan gradually settled. Some of the rawness left him, the aching guilt in his stomach eased enough that he could breathe again and he moved away.

This time, Duke let him go and they sat beside each other in a silence that was about thirty seconds away from becoming awkward when Duke stood up. He got two beers out of the fridge, opened them, passed one to Nathan and sat back down again.

“We talking about this?” he asked.

Nathan flicked him a wry little smile and focussed very hard on the label on his bottle of beer.

“Ok, no, let me rephrase. We’re talking about this. What’s going on? Right now, I mean, I get that it was a shit day, you can tell me about that later.”

Fair question. One that, if the situation was reversed and Duke had crashed, Nathan would have expected him to answer honestly. And if he was going to expect that level of honesty from Duke, he had to be prepared to give it, too, so he took a deep breath and started to explain.

“I, uh.” His mouth was dry and he took a long sip of beer - partly so he could speak more easily but mostly to buy himself a precious few seconds to organise his jumbled thoughts into something more coherent. “I used you.”

Duke made a humming sound of disagreement and looked as though he was about to say something else but Nathan interrupted whatever it was. Probably some platitude about how it was ok. And it wasn’t. It was very not ok.

“I used you,” he said again. “I had a shit day and I took it out on you.”

“Yeah, I got that it was a shit day but I wouldn’t have said you took it out on me.”

Nathan gave him a look and took another long sip of his beer.

“Ok.” Duke settled to make himself more comfortable. “So what’s bothering you. Specifically.”

“I lost control. I’m supposed to be in control here. I’m supposed to take care of you and I didn’t,” Nathan said. He peeled the label from his bottle and shredded it into tiny pieces that he dropped onto the floor.

Duke picked them up and Nathan thought he was going to throw them away but he didn’t move so much as an inch, his shoulder still pressed against Nathan’s. “No one can be in control all of the time.”

“I know that!” Nathan’s voice came out much higher and more shrill and harsh than he’d wanted it to. “I know that,” he tried again, softer this time. “I should’ve cancelled, rescheduled for when I was in a better frame of mind.”

“Nate, nothing happened that I didn’t want to happen. I could’ve left. I knew what sort of mood you were in the second you opened the door. I stayed because I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t,” Nathan blurted out. “‘m not - I’m no better than everyone in your past. I used you. Just like they did.”

“Hey, no, I’m not having that,” Duke said, uncurling himself to face Nathan. He put down his bottle and rested his hand on Nathan’s jaw, his fingers cold from the chilled glass. “You  _ are  _ better.”

Nathan wanted to look away - to  _ run  _ away - but Duke’s hand was strong on his jaw, not letting him drop his face. He met the fierce intensity of Duke’s gaze. “I took what I wanted and I couldn’t’ve stopped if I’d wanted to. I used you, Duke.” His voice cracked on Duke’s name and he swallowed hard against the bitter taste of regret that rose in him once more.

“You didn’t use me. You took what I offered and there’s a whole world of difference there.”

“Not sure I see the difference.”

“Choice,” Duke said simply. “That’s the difference. I knew what it was gonna be, I offered it anyway. I  _ did  _ it anyway. I put myself there and I gave you what I thought would help. That’s not using me.”

Nathan blinked furiously against the sting of unfallen tears in his eyes. He hardly dared to let himself believe what Duke was saying. Maybe it didn’t matter if he believed it because  _ Duke  _ believed it and if Duke didn’t feel used then maybe - just maybe - there was a way past the mess that he’d caused. Maybe what he’d done was forgivable. Not to himself, perhaps, but to Duke. And that was a starting point.

“It’s not using me, Nate.” Duke sounded so convinced, so sincere, that Nathan allowed himself to let out a shaky breath and nod.

“Don’t ever wanna use you, Duke. You want this to be just...whatever it is, that’s fine by me. I’m bad at relationships. Doesn’t mean you aren’t important to me. Doesn’t mean you’re worth any less.” That might have been slightly too much honesty but given the emotions Nathan had already shown in the past half an hour  _ (God, had it really only been half an hour, it felt like half a lifetime ago),  _ he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was already vulnerable, he might as well be open.

“I know.”

“You know?” Nathan asked, his eyebrows creeping up his forehead. Duke often said things that made his eyebrows do that but this was by far the most surprising thing he’d said in a while.

Duke slowly lowered his hand away from Nathan’s jaw and stood up. After he brushed the tiny scraps of shredded beer bottle label into the bin, he reached into the fridge for two fresh bottles of beer, handed one to Nathan and sat back down beside him. “Yeah.”

“Good, that’s good,” Nathan said, his head nodding of its own accord.

“I mean, you show me often enough.”

“I...do?”

“Yeah.” Duke didn’t seem particularly inclined to elaborate on that.

Nathan was hesitant to ask, to push the point and be seen as  _ clingy  _ or demanding reassurance. The thing was, though - 

The thing was, he  _ needed  _ that reassurance. He needed to know what he was doing right when it felt like he was getting so much wrong. Once again, he reminded himself that if the situations were reversed, he would expect Duke to ask for what he needed, he would expect that honesty from him.

“How - how so?” he said after a moment.

Duke flashed him a wry smile and let out a soft, humourless chuckle. “You really - you really want to get into this, huh?”

Nathan wriggled his shoulders in an awkward little shrug and was about to tell him no, tell him not to worry about it, when Duke started speaking anyway.

“You take care of me. Beer and conversation before, beer and poker afterwards.”

“Yeah but that’s just common courtesy, isn’t it?”

“Really not,” Duke said, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, “but it’s not just that. You check in, during. You always ask if I’m ok. And after, even if I don’t need it, you hug me, get me a blanket, water. You don’t just chuck my clothes at me and tell me to get out.”

Nathan couldn’t help scowling. “People have done that to you?”

“...Yeah.”

Not really surprising, given what Nathan knew about Duke’s past partners (which was very little, only what he’d surmised from the one he  _ did  _ know about it and piecing together little things that Duke had let slip), but still a painful thought. Clearly it was for Duke too, given the little hesitation before he answered.

“You deserve better,” he said, needing Duke to hear that, even if he wasn’t able to believe it.

“You give me better.” Duke met Nathan’s eyes and gave him a little smile before he resumed staring at the floor. “Look, you’ve never once pushed past my boundaries, you respect the lines I drew when we started this and you never ask for more than I’m willing to give.”

“I’d never push you, never not respect the limits you set.”

“I know. That’s why I trust you.”

“You do?” Nathan could barely disguise the hope - and maybe a little awe - in his voice. Duke trusted him. Even after everything - everything Duke had been through in his past and everything Nathan had done to lose that trust - Duke still trusted him. 

“I do.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” The words fell from his lips before Nathan could stop them.

Duke looked up sharply. “Why?”

“Because I used you. Lost control and used you.”

“Ok, no, I’ve just spent the last...however long explaining that you didn’t use me, you just took what I freely offered and those are not the same thing, Nate. At all. I trust you.”

Nathan just nodded.

Duke squeezed his shoulder before he looked away again, his focus on his bottle of beer now. “You never make me feel worthless or devalued or used. You’ve never let me down.”

“Until tonight. I let you down, Duke.”

“Nope, not having that. Months now, Friday after Friday after Friday, you’ve never once cancelled because work got in the way or something better came up. That’s not letting me down.” Duke was still staring at the floor or at his beer more than he was meeting Nathan’s eyes. His voice was just a tiny bit strained; minute hesitations between words and sentences that wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone who didn’t know him.

But Nathan did know him. He knew Duke. Could read the signs, the tiny little signs that showed how uncomfortable he was talking about this and how much this level of open and honest communication was costing him.

A lot. It was costing him a lot. Nathan knew that. Duke had handed him a weapon. Now that Nathan knew what Duke valued about the way he treated him, he knew what to take away from him to hurt him. He could use that. He wouldn’t. He never would. But he understood the enormity of what Duke was saying.

He was saying it anyway, though. It was a risk and he was taking it because Nathan needed to hear those things from him. Because Nathan needed him. He was present and engaged and speaking openly. It was difficult but he was doing it anyway. And Nathan - 

Nathan could have kissed him for that.

He didn’t, of course, because Duke had made it very clear from the start that kissing was off the agenda but still. He wanted to. But that was probably just because Duke was being nice to him so Nathan banished the thought to the back of his mind and gave it no further attention.

“Thanks, Duke,” he said quietly.

“Don’t mention it,” Duke said in the sort of tone of voice that meant ‘no, really, don’t ever mention it again’, as though he didn’t want to be reminded that he’d been kind and soft and just a little bit vulnerable.

Which gave Nathan’s heartstrings a little tug but he could respect that so he just nodded and sipped at his beer.

“So,” Duke said after a moment of silence, “why was your day so bad?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Nathan said, trying for offhand and failing miserably. It  _ did  _ matter. It just didn’t matter to  _ Duke.  _ “You don’t want to hear about that crap.”

“I literally just asked, Nathan, and I wouldn’t have if I didn’t want to know.”

Nathan suspected that might not be quite the whole truth. It probably had more to do with Duke wanting to draw him out, give him a healthier outlet for his anger and make sure he wasn’t brooding on it all night. The thought gave him another little tug on his heartstrings but he ignored it. “Patrick Grolsch,” he spat out, barely able to keep the venom out of his voice.

“That asshole,” Duke growled back. “What’s he done this time?”

“Pranged his Beemer last night. Got hauled into the station, four times over the limit.”

Duke made a sound of disgust. “Guy’s a dick. You know he won’t come in the Gull anymore? Not since I took his keys off him and he had to walk home. Won’t go in McHugh’s place, same reason.”

“Shame the folks at the Rusty Bucket don’t take the same attitude.”

“Way I heard it, they’re close to going under, probably glad of any customers they can get.”

Nathan raised his eyebrows. That was news. “Really?”

“Yeah, too much trouble with the biker gangs that hang out there, always having to repair damages, it’s killing their profits.”

“Guess if they close down, the gangs’ll be looking for a new place to drink.”

“Yup. Don’t worry, I still keep my trusty baseball bat under the bar. And a loaded shotgun.”

“Good to know.” Nathan flashed him a little smile and allowed himself a tiny sigh of relief that at least that wasn’t something he had to worry about. Of course the possibility of Duke getting into trouble for  _ stopping  _ trouble was always a distinct possibility but one that he couldn’t worry about unless it happened. There was no point in telling Duke to trust the police and not take matters into his own hands. That would just be a fruitless argument.

Duke gave him a little smile in return. “So what’s got you wound up tighter than a pissed off rattlesnake? Because I know you hate drunk drivers as much as I do but there’s more to this than Patrick Grolsch getting his drunk ass thrown in a cell.”

“Pissed off rattlesnake? Really?”

“Yeah. Coiled and ready to strike.”

It wasn’t a bad analogy and Nathan allowed himself a huff of laughter. “Ok, fair.”

“So what is it?” Duke pushed.

Nathan started to answer but stopped himself. He didn’t want to tell Duke, didn’t want to admit how badly he’d fucked up. How much of a failure he was. How  _ weak  _ he was. That was the cold hard truth of it. He hadn’t been angry at the mayor, or Grolsch, or whoever had broken the coffee machine and not fixed it. No. He’d been angry and frustrated with himself and he’d taken it out on Duke. He wanted to apologise again, to make sure Duke knew how sorry he was, make sure that he believed it would never happen again. 

But that would be like asking for reassurance again. Even if he  _ wasn’t  _ asking, Duke would take it that way and he’d already asked enough of Duke for one night so he’d tell him. He’d stick to the facts and tell him what happened.

“Couldn’t charge him,” he said after a momentary hesitation. “He used his phone call to call the mayor, offered him a donation to his reelection campaign if he could sort out his  _ ‘little problem’,  _ mayor threatened to have my job if I didn’t release him without charge. So I did. I let him go.”

“Ah.” Duke grimaced and nodded. “Well that explains it. Why you’re like a coiled rattlesnake, I mean.”

“It does?”

“Yeah.”

“How so?” Nathan grabbed the opportunity to  _ not talk  _ for a minute.

“You were stopped from doing your job - pretty much the only thing in your life that matters to you, a point of  _ pride  _ for you - by an asshole with too much cash and a system that allowed him to use it. Understandable that you’re pissed about it. It hit pretty much every button you have.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. Grolsch is putting people in danger through his own choices, that pisses you off. The mayor is letting him, that pisses you off. You can’t stop him and therefore can’t protect the people you’re paid to protect, that pisses you off. You can’t do your job because of outside interference, that pisses you off. And then you spiral into thinking you should’ve done more-”

“I  _ should  _ have done more,” Nathan interrupted hotly. “I failed. If someone gets hurt because of him, that’ll be on me.”

“No-”

_ “Yes!”  _ Nathan insisted. “I didn’t do enough to stop him. It’ll be my fault because I was too weak to stand up to the mayor.”

“Uh huh,” Duke said, nodding. “And, uh. If you’d gone head to head with the mayor, you’d have been fired, right?”

Nathan nodded, albeit reluctantly, seeing where Duke was going with this.

“And if that happened, how many people do you think you could have protected?”

“None,” Nathan mumbled.

“Exactly.” Duke’s grin was smug, pleased with himself for having logicked Nathan into agreeing with him. 

“But that’s not the point.” Nathan thought it  _ might  _ actually be the point, at least the one Duke was trying to make. “I should’ve done more.”

“But there was nothing you  _ could  _ have done. You did the best you could in a shitty situation. Sure, you could’ve taken a stand, lost your job over it but then you’d’ve just been replaced with someone else and honestly? Haven is safer with you in charge.”

“How can it be? I can’t even stand up to the fucking mayor and assholes like Grolsch can get away with anything just because they’re rich.”

“The mayor’s fault, not yours.”

“If I’d been stronger, more determined, more - more of a  _ man-”  _

“Bullshit,” Duke interrupted him. “Did the mayor call you and ask you nicely to let him go without charging him and you just did it?”

“...No.”

“Go on, how many times did he call?”

Nathan hesitated again. “I stopped counting after the twelfth call.”

“So you argued your point, you refused, and you only gave in when it was clear you had no option?”

“...Uh…”

“Right. It wasn’t your fault. Be pissed at Grolsch, at the mayor, at the system. Don’t be pissed at yourself. You did everything you could.”

“But-”

“But nothing,” Duke said firmly. “Anything that happens as a result of this is on Grolsch and the mayor. Not on you.”

Having found himself very carefully logicked into a corner from which there was no escape, Nathan nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.”

_ Maybe _ was the best he could do right now. A good night’s sleep and a punishing run on the beach before work in the morning and he’d probably be able to believe what Duke was saying. Or at least start to.

“Good enough,” Duke said, squeezing Nathan’s shoulder. “You gonna be ok?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Duke studied him for a moment, his head tilted to one side before he nodded, clearly satisfied with whatever he’d seen in Nathan’s expression. “Ok, I’m outta here.”

Nathan stood when he did and followed him to the door, surprised when Duke pulled him into another hug.

“Be kind to yourself, Nate,” he murmured before he let go and dashed out before Nathan could respond.

It was good advice. Even if it was advice that Nathan struggled to follow. He could try though. Starting with another beer and making himself some pancakes.

He gave a little wave to Duke’s retreating back and closed the door.


	11. Duke

“Nice to see not much has changed here.”

Duke spun round to see a familiar, smirking face in front of him. “Bill?!”

Bill grinned, his arms spread wide; Duke darted out from behind the bar to drag him into a rough  _ bro-hug.  _

“Good to see you, man,” Duke said, clapping him on the back before he let him go.

“Good to see you too. How’re things?”

“Fine, fine.” Duke went back behind the bar. “What are you drinking?”

“Beer and whatever you’re having,” Bill said, pulling his wallet out.

“Two beers and put that away, you don’t pay here.”

“Business that good?”

“Yeah, actually, it’s going well.”

Bill grinned. “Mom and dad would be delighted with what you’re doing with the place.”

“Yeah.” Duke smiled softly. He couldn’t thank Bill enough for selling him the place at a very knock-down price after his parents had passed away. They’d owned the Gull (formerly the Second Chance bistro) and a place in New York which they’d bought for Geoff some years before. After they died, Bill and Meg had upped sticks and moved to the city to run the New York restaurant which, judging by the excellent reviews it was getting in the national press, was doing very well. “So what are you doing here? Everything’s ok, right? You’ve got Meg and the kids with you?”

“Vacation, everything’s fine, Meg and the kids are with me.”

Duke grinned and emerged from behind the bar once again - this time carrying two bottles of beer. He passed one to Bill and gestured in the direction of a table overlooking the water. “Should’ve told me you were coming.”

“Wanted to surprise you,” Bill said as he sat down.

“You definitely did that.”

“Wasn’t sure how the dates were gonna work out, didn’t want to tell you we were gonna be in town and then have to change plans.”

Duke nodded. Bill understood him in a way that most other people didn’t. He knew that changing plans was tantamount to letting Duke down; that even though, rationally, he understood that plans changed and shit happened, it still  _ hurt,  _ still hit some deep, wounded part of himself and made him feel like he didn’t matter. “Picked a nice time of year to come back,” he said, not wanting to dwell on that topic.

“Always loved the place in the spring. Seemed like a good time to see the old town, catch up with friends, before the place gets too full of tourists.”

“Y’know, I’d complain about the tourists but they bring business. I just wish they’d remember that this is a real town and people have real jobs and it isn’t a fucking theme park.”

Bill laughed. “Yeah, I remember it well. Stopping in the middle of the road to take photos and wandering along the docks when the fishing boats are trying to unload.”

“Yeah, yeah, exactly. Like, it doesn’t take much to not be a dick, even when you’re on vacation.”

“Speaking of tourists,” Bill said, looking awkward, “friend of Meg’s from college is coming up on the weekend, thought you might like to meet her.”

Duke groaned. From the way Bill had said it, it sounded very much like it was Meg’s idea and while it would arguably be rude to refuse, it felt wrong to even be thinking about meeting someone while he had whatever it was he had with Nathan going on. “You think I can’t find my own dates?” he said, more defensively than he’d really planned to.

“Not that, think you’ll like her.”

“Thanks. That’s...very sweet.”

“That’s a no then.” Bill was grinning, easy and relaxed.

Duke relaxed too. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You seeing someone?”

Well that was the billion dollar question, wasn’t it? Was he seeing someone? 

“Sort of,” Duke answered truthfully. He  _ was  _ sort of seeing Nathan. At least insofar as they had a regular arrangement that he didn’t particularly want to stop. He hadn’t dated (or anything else) anyone since that arrangement had started and he didn’t think Nathan had either so...yeah, he was kind of seeing Nathan.

“Go on, who is it?” Bill asked, leaning forwards with his elbows on the table.

“That - that’s between me and him.”

“Spill, Duke,” Bill said with a little gesture of his hands. “I’ve been stuck in New York with Geoff for five years, fill me in.”

Duke hesitated. Answering honestly would bring about a whole  _ discussion  _ that he wasn’t even remotely prepared for but Nathan had said he didn’t care who knew, and  _ he  _ didn’t care who knew. It was private, it wasn’t a secret, there was no reason he  _ shouldn’t  _ tell Bill. Except for the resulting conversation that was bound to happen. He braced himself, sighed and said, “Nathan”.

“Nathan? Really?”

There was a certain amount of judgement in his tone that Duke really didn’t appreciate and he bristled slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Bill said and took a sip of his beer. “Just - are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Duke laughed, forced even to his own ears. “It’s just sex.”

“No, it isn’t. Not for you anyway.” 

“No idea what you mean.”

Except Duke  _ did  _ know what Bill meant. He knew  _ full well  _ what Bill meant. It was the exact thing he’d been trying very hard not to admit to himself since he and Nathan had started this - this whole  _ thing.  _ If he wasn’t admitting it to himself, he damn well wasn’t going to admit it to  _ Bill.  _ Easier to pretend he didn’t have a clue what he meant and wait for it to be spelled out for him.

Or maybe hope that Bill would take the hint and  _ not  _ spell it out for him.

“You and Nathan. You’ve had a thing for him since we were kids.”

Oh. No such luck on that score then, Bill just called it right out and let him no room to hide.

“Sorry, did you - did you come here just to attack me over this?” Duke said in a desperate attempt to try to deflect what was turning into a very awkward conversation.

Bill rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. “Now you’re just being dramatic.”

Duke laughed. “Yeah, probably. Go on, why do you think it’s a bad idea?” 

Not that he really wanted to continue this discussion in any form whatsoever but maybe if Bill’s reasons for it being a bad idea lined up with his own reasons for it being a bad idea, he could firmly squash down the thoughts he’d been having recently once and for all. Thoughts that, if he was being honest, had been there for a lot longer than he wanted to admit to.

“Because I saw the state of you before you left here and Wade said you spent six months holed up at his place at the bottom of a bottle that he had a hell of a job pulling you out of.”

Which, Duke thought, wasn’t an entirely inaccurate version of events but still…

“That wasn’t to do with Nathan,” he tried.

“Bullshit.”

_ Fair comment.  _ “Shut up.”

Bill laughed but he leaned further forwards, his tone serious - concerned and cautious - when he spoke. “Just be careful, Duke. I know Nathan’s the only reason you came back to Haven.”

“I’m being careful. Just sex. He knows that, so do I.” 

“You might know it but do you believe it?”

In lieu of a proper answer, which he didn’t have right now, Duke flashed him a wry grin and raised his bottle. Bill raised his in return and they chatted, catching up on the news since they’d last spoken before they made arrangements to meet for lunch on Saturday - before Meg’s friend arrived later in the afternoon so Duke wasn’t accidentally put in the situation of being someone’s not-date which would be very uncomfortable for all concerned.

After Bill left, the Gull was quiet. Duke sat outside, staring at the ocean with too much time to think and that was bad. Very bad.

Because the thing was, as much as Duke had objected, Bill wasn’t wrong. He was, in fact, terribly, horribly,  _ right.  _ Duke  _ had  _ had a thing for Nathan since they’d been kids. Over the years he’d successfully squashed those feelings down and accepted that it was never going to happen so he might as well embrace their friendship. Then  _ that  _ had fallen apart and so had Duke. 

Which was when he’d let Haven, all those years ago. Bill had been right about him holing up at Wade’s and spending 6 months at the bottom of a bottle (and other, less legal, substances) while he tried (and failed) to forget Nathan’s existence.

By the time he’d come back, he’d thought he was past it. He’d convinced himself that he was past it. One look at Nathan’s stupid, gorgeous face and he realised that he wasn’t. He really wasn’t. But their friendship had never really recovered and any starry-eyed thoughts Duke might have had about a possible future with Nathan had dwindled into nothingness. Instead, they were replaced by a hollow, empty certainty that he would never gain Nathan’s approval or acceptance; or that he might ever be  _ good enough  _ for Nathan or that Nathan would ever see him in that way.

Until the evening that Nathan propositioned him. That brought all the feelings rushing back. The tiny spark of hope that Duke kept firmly pressed down, deep inside him where it couldn’t do any damage when it was inevitably extinguished again. All the heady thoughts of  _ maybe  _ and  _ perhaps  _ and  _ possibly  _ and  _ potentially.  _ He squashed them all before they could take root and replaced them with a litany of  _ it’s just sex  _ and  _ it’s just convenient  _ and  _ he’s only doing this to protect me.  _

They had an arrangement of convenience borne from Nathan’s need to protect and Duke’s need to hurt. It was  _ so close  _ to what Duke really wanted. It was more than he ever thought he could have. And he was scared.

What if he pushed and lost it all? What if he pushed and  _ didn’t  _ lose it all? What if Nathan wanted the same?

He crushed that thought down hard. It wasn’t possible. Nathan would never want more.

All the same -

There was definitely an element of emotional support developing in their arrangement, something Duke hadn’t been expecting at all when he went into it, but it was there all the same - even outside of their ‘dates’. When he’d needed Nathan, he’d asked and Nathan had been there. When Nathan had needed him, he’d been there. And Nathan had said that he didn’t want to hide what they were doing, that he wanted to keep the details private, obviously, but he didn’t care who knew that they were having a  _ thing.  _ So maybe -

Maybe he was more afraid of losing the chance for  _ more  _ than he was of losing what they had now. 

The question was - which fear was stronger? That was a question that Duke couldn’t answer sober.

He went inside, picked up a bottle of whisky and told Tracy he was taking the rest of the day off. He had some serious thinking to do and that involved some serious drinking.

*

The thinking had led to drinking which had led to more thinking and more drinking and by the time he got to Nathan’s house on Friday, Duke still wasn’t any further forward with what he was going to do, or what he might say if he  _ did  _ decide to do it.

_ ‘It’  _ being - well, he didn’t know exactly. Telling Nathan how he felt? He laughed that idea off as being ridiculous. Showing him how he felt? Equally ridiculous. What was he going to do? Turn up with a box of chocolates and a bunch of roses?

No.

Which left - well, he didn’t know that either. There was a lot he didn’t know and he didn’t like it. It left him with a tightness in his chest, a gnawing sensation deep in his stomach and a vague sense of unease.

Nathan passed him a beer as soon as they got into the kitchen. He didn’t ask first, just reached into the fridge, flipped the cap off and handed it to Duke without a word. It was a routine that had become  _ comfortable  _ over the past six months ( _ gods,  _ had it been that long already?), warm and familiar and settling.

Some of the tension lifted from Duke, replaced by an overwhelming urge to move. Not to  _ run,  _ exactly, but to  _ jitter.  _ He drummed his fingers against the bottle, ring finger, middle finger, forefinger, over and over again, the rhythm matching pace with his heart which was trying to thud its way out of his chest as he leaned against Nathan’s kitchen counter in an attempt at nonchalance.

“Good week?” Nathan asked. 

The usual question. Everything was normal, everything was fine, he didn’t have to do anything, say anything, change anything. 

“Yeah, fine. You?”

“Good. Getting busier with tourists already. Couple road rage incidents where they’ve parked in stupid places and upset the locals.”

“Keeps you busy, I guess.”

Nathan nodded. “Heard Bill and Meg are back for a visit.”

“Yeah, having lunch with them and the kids tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” Nathan gave him a little smile.

Words danced on the tip of Duke’s tongue.

_ You should come.  _

He didn’t say it. Barely allowed himself to think it. They hadn’t socialised outside of their Friday night arrangement, not even for coffee or a beer. Lunch with friends would be entirely  _ too much.  _ Although now that he came to think about it, maybe inviting Nathan for a beer sometime might be a good way of suggesting that he wanted this to be more than  _ just sex  _ without having to have a conversation that would be horribly, awfully  _ awkward.  _

He’d barely opened his mouth to suggest it when Nathan started to speak.

“Been thinking,” he said, and paused.

Somewhere in that tiny pause, Duke’s stomach plunged somewhere into his boots. His knees were weak, his mouth dry. Thinking was never good. Thinking was Nathan realising that Duke wasn’t worth this. Thinking was second thoughts and changes and renegotiating. 

Or ending. 

Was this it? Had he missed his chance? Had he somehow fucked this up without even knowing he was doing it?

Thoughts and questions crashed through his mind. Duke felt like his whole world was falling down around him, though he gave no outward sign of it; he just sipped at his beer and gave a little gesture of his hand, inviting Nathan to continue.

Nathan cleared his throat and started again. “Been thinking,” he repeated, a light blush rising to his cheeks, “wouldn’t mind seeing your face when I fuck you.”

Duke’s brain all but short-circuited as it tried to make the leap from  _ this is ending  _ to processing what Nathan had just said. He stared back at Nathan, his mouth slightly open as he tried to catch up with the unexpected turn of events.

“Wh - what do you think?” Nathan went on, running his fingers across his lips. 

He did that sometimes. Duke wondered if he knew, if he had any fucking idea what that did to him; that every time he did it, every time he drew attention to those beautiful lips, Duke wanted to kiss him and never stop. That was why he’d set it as a limit right from the start. He had no objections to kissing whatsoever, he just knew that it was very much not a good idea. It was dangerous. It was the beginning of a path that Duke hadn’t been ready to go down when they’d started this whole thing.

Except now - 

Now he  _ was  _ ready to go down that path. He couldn’t work out why he hadn’t thought of it until right now. Kissing was the perfect way to suss out if Nathan was open to  _ more.  _

Before he could think too hard and talk himself out of it, Duke set down the bottle, crowded into Nathan’s space and replaced Nathan’s fingers with his lips. 

Nathan made a surprised sound and pulled away.

_ Crap.  _ Duke had fucked up. Big time. Apologies, excuses, jokes all sprang to Duke’s lip but before he could say anything, Nathan spoke.

“Are you sure? You said - Duke,  _ are you sure?”  _ Nathan sounded breathless and  _ awed. _

Maybe it wasn’t as much of a fuck up as Duke had thought.

By way of an answer, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Nathan’s once again.

This time, Nathan whined, needy and demanding, and he was  _ kissing back.  _

Duke lost himself in the taste of beer on Nathan’s breath, underlined with a hint of coffee; in the scent of him, citrus and cedarwood and gunpowder; in the quiet hitch of his breath as Duke’s hand found its way to rest on his jaw; in the light scrape of stubble under his palm; in  _ Nathan.  _ He couldn’t help the little soft sound that escaped him.

Nathan seemed to take that for the encouragement that it was. He deepened the kiss, insistently using his lips to open Duke’s mouth further so he could dart his tongue inside.

Duke eagerly reciprocated, searching and exploring and tasting. When Nathan’s hand came to his waist, his breath caught in his chest.

Still lost in the kiss, he found himself being manoeuvred up the stairs in stumbling, faltering movements, hands tugging at clothes until there was a trail of discarded shirts and pants and socks behind them and -  _ finally _ \- he was pushed down onto the bed.

Nathan stared down at him; held him in place with just the intensity of his gaze. “God, Duke.” His voice was hoarse, raw and urgent as he moved to press against Duke, covering his body with his own.

He was already hard. His cock nudged at Duke’s hip. Duke arched up into him, desperate for more contact, to feel Nathan’s skin against his, to smell, to  _ taste.  _ He wanted to curl his hand around the nape of Nathan’s neck, to pull him closer, to kiss him again, but he didn’t. That wasn’t his place. Nathan was in control here, not him. That had been clear from the start, had always been what he wanted. He had no right to demand anything. He just had to wait and accept whatever Nathan decided to offer him.

What Nathan decided to offer him was another kiss, deep and demanding.  _ Claiming him.  _ Duke surrendered to the possessive press of lips against lips, lost himself in sensation; in everything that was  _ Nathan.  _ Lost himself further when Nathan dropped his lips to suck at the sensitive spot on his neck, hard enough to leave a mark. One that Duke wouldn’t be able to hide easily.

A mark that crossed a line, broke a limit. Duke thought that maybe he should have been more upset about it than he was but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted the whole world to know he was Nathan’s. At least in this context. Not in any other context. Outside of the bedroom (or any other room for that matter), Duke Crocker belonged to no one but himself, answered to no one and nothing except his own somewhat dubious moral code. But here? 

Here, he belonged to Nathan. No question about it.

If there  _ had  _ been a question in his mind (and there wasn’t, there definitely wasn’t), it was erased when Nathan’s hands closed around his wrists to push his arms above his head. Once again Duke was lost. His world narrowed to  _ Nathan.  _ Nothing else existed, nothing else mattered, just right now. Just this moment. The heat of Nathan against him. The gentle way Nathan held his wrists, effortlessly controlling him. The light scratch of Nathan’s stubble contrasting with his soft lips when he leaned down for another kiss.

The emptiness when Nathan pulled away.

“God, Duke,” he said again as he rolled his hips.

Duke was left in no doubt about how much Nathan wanted this.

Wanted  _ him.  _

He was hard. Very hard. Hot, where his length nudged against Duke’s hip again. Heat that Duke wanted inside him. 

“Fuck me, Nate,” Duke all but whined. Pleading, not demanding. Begging, not insisting.

Nathan always seemed to like it when Duke begged. Tonight was no exception. Duke had barely finished speaking before Nathan pulled away to pick up the lube. 

He nudged Duke’s thighs apart, slicked up his fingers and worked first one, then another inside him, fast enough to draw a gasp from Duke’s lips as he breathed through the burning stretch that was just the right side of painful. Undeterred, Nathan added a third finger, twisting and scissoring, working Duke open. Not roughly but quickly, like he couldn’t wait. That was hot in itself. That Nathan was just as desperate for this as he was. That he  _ wanted Duke.  _

“I’m ready, Nate. Please,” Duke said breathlessly.

After one last twist of his fingers, Nathan pulled them out and quickly rolled on a condom.

Duke spread his legs wider, accommodating Nathan when he kneeled between them. Nathan didn’t waste any time, didn’t make him  _ wait  _ any longer, before he pushed inside him. His fingers dug into Duke’s hips tightly enough that it would leave bruises the next day, holding him still, steadying him through the initial intrusion.

He paused then, giving Duke a minute to adjust around him - a minute Duke was just about to protest he didn’t need when Nathan started to move.

“Want your hands on me,” he growled.

That gave Duke the reassurance that he badly needed. Nathan was _reacting_ to him. He hadn’t fucked this up by kissing him. It wasn’t _over._ Nathan had responded to Duke changing the rules by asking for _more contact._ He wasn’t just playing a role any longer, he was _invested._ In the scene and in _Duke._

Duke obeyed immediately. Of course he did, he was being given a chance to do what he’d always wanted to do. He clutched at him, grabbing and greedy as though he was afraid the opportunity might be taken away at any moment. He arched against him, wordlessly encouraging him. 

Nathan responded by leaning down, warm and solid as he pinned Duke to the bed with just his bodyweight.

Hot breath flowed across Duke’s cheek in the split second before Nathan kissed him, deep and insistent and  _ wet.  _ Messy and unreserved. 

Determined to take full advantage of the new situation, Duke ran his fingers through Nathan’s hair. The short strands were soft, almost fluffy, especially at the nape of his neck where Duke curled his hand. He slid his other hand down Nathan’s back. Down over smooth skin. He squeezed Nathan’s ass and smiled when Nathan made a quiet sound of approval.

A smile that turned to a gasp when Nathan started fucking him with short, hard thrusts. The thin veneer of control that he always wore was gone, replaced by something much more  _ raw,  _ full of passion and  _ rough.  _ A sharp push in, a slow drag out, letting him feel every inch. Rough enough that Duke felt it - would still be feeling it tomorrow - not rough enough that he was in any danger of being  _ hurt.  _

Nathan shifted his weight onto one elbow. He pulled back from the kiss and ran his fingers through Duke’s hair in a gesture that was  _ soft  _ and gentle and -

_ Gods,  _ it was entirely too much.

Duke closed his eyes to escape the intimacy that he hadn’t been expecting; that he wasn’t quite ready for.

Nathan must have read him, must have been able to tell it was  _ wrong.  _ It wasn’t wrong, it was just  _ too soon,  _ but Duke couldn’t tell him that. He changed his gentle touch to a harsher one, tangled his fingers in Duke’s hair to pull his head back, exposed his throat and  _ nipped,  _ right over his pulse point. That was better. Safer. That was back on much more familiar ground.

His thrusts were faster now. Harder. Hitting deeper. Each one sent a jolt of pleasure racing through Duke and drew a quiet gasp from his lips. Heat pooled towards his centre, flowed down to his cock which jerked in between them, trapped, deprived of attention, desperate for contact. He settled for wrapping his legs around Nathan’s waist; bucked against him, met every movement with a roll of his hips. 

“Jesus, Duke,” Nathan murmured breathlessly, his lips brushing against Duke’s neck. “So close.”

A little choked sound escaped from Duke. “I’m close too, Nate.”

“How close?”

“So fucking close. Please, Nate. Please touch me.”

“Where do you want to be touched?” His voice was low and controlling, demanding an answer.

Duke’s length twitched again and he whimpered. “My cock. Please touch my cock. Make me come. Please, Nate.” 

Nathan kissed him again, hard and rough. He nipped his bottom lip and made him wait for a few more precious seconds before he pulled back and started stroking, skillfully matching the speed of his hand to the rhythm of his thrusts.

White hot waves of pleasure rushed through Duke. He gasped and whined, shivered as each thrust, each stroke carried him closer to the edge. When he came, Nathan’s lips were pressed to his, swallowing his cries of pleasure, echoing them with his own.

Still panting for breath, he was only vaguely aware that Nathan had pulled away to clean up, didn’t really register what he was doing until he found himself insistently dragged into a hug. A hug that was warm and comforting and familiar. A hug that was more of a cuddle than anything else. A hug that was like coming home and -  _ oh gods,  _ he couldn’t  _ think  _ like that. 

It was too much, too soon. He couldn’t let himself get carried away on the basis of what amounted to barely more than a single kiss. All the same, he allowed himself to relax into the contact, welcoming it rather than tolerating it, soaking it up in case this was the last time he ever got to experience it. If he was clinging slightly, at least Nathan didn’t call him out on it. He just held him with a quiet intimacy as both of them drifted in their post fucking haze.

If he'd been asked, Duke wouldn't have been able to tell anyone what the difference was between that hug and any of the other post scene hugs Nathan had given him. But it  _ was  _ different. It was more comfortable. Less awkward. They should probably talk about it - this whole thing. 

The kiss.

The fucking.

Everything.

Not now, though. Not  _ yet.  _

“So that was, uh…” he said instead, not knowing how to finish the sentence but needing to say  _ something.  _

“Yeah. It was.” 

Nathan seemed to know what he meant anyway. Duke shut up, settled down with his head on the pillow. On  _ Nathan’s  _ pillow. He held onto that moment, committing every tiny detail to memory. The scent of sex that hung heavily in the air. The solid warmth of Nathan against him. The soft flow of breath on his skin. He clung to each sensation as he clung to Nathan and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to drop his guard, just for a few minutes.

“I should go,” Duke said after the few minutes had turned into half an hour; the longest hug he’d had in a very long time. He didn’t make an effort to move away, though, and he didn’t bother to think too closely about what that meant.

“Yeah, course,” Nathan said, sounding vaguely disappointed. Except that wasn’t possible. Maybe he was ok that they kissed and happy that they fucked but he couldn’t be disappointed that Duke was going home. He was probably just in a post-orgasmic state of bliss and his voice came out funny. Except, after a moment’s hesitation, he spoke again. “Could have a beer. I mean, if - if you want.”

“Guess I didn’t finish the one I started earlier.”

“I’ll get you a fresh one,” Nathan said, far too eagerly for it to be anything but genuine. He jumped out of bed and pulled on a clean pair of boxers before he dashed out of the room and down the stairs.

Duke smiled to himself and spread out on the bed, doing his best face down starfish impression. If he ended up cuddling Nathan’s pillow in the process, well, no one had to know about it.

At least until Nathan came back sooner than Duke had expected him to be. He was slightly out of breath - he must have raced back up the stairs as quickly as he’d raced down them - and he was smiling softly as he held out the bottle of beer. 

Duke hurriedly put down the pillow and cleared his throat before he took the beer and sipped at it.

Nathan took a swig of his own beer and perched on the edge of the bed. “I’ll grab your clothes in a minute. Didn’t want you to feel like I was kicking you out.”

“Yeah, no, I know, you’re always good like that.”

“Try to be.” Nathan flashed him a little smile and ducked his head.

“You succeed.”

“Thanks.”

Duke nodded and sat up, pulled the sheet across his lap. Not that he was ever embarrassed by nakedness - he knew he looked good, he had no hang ups about that - but he was feeling just a tiny bit  _ vulnerable.  _ Like Nathan had seen a part of him that no one else ever had. A part of him that he usually kept hidden.

Maybe Nathan felt a little bit the same way because he set his beer down and pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He sat back down on the bed, his shoulders hunched, started to say something, stopped, started again. “Was it ok?”

To his credit, Duke did manage to contain the snort of amusement.  _ Was it ok?  _ It was better than ok, it was what he’d been craving for more years than he cared to admit to. He wasn’t saying that, though. “Yeah, no, it was good.”

“Know it didn’t involve as much control as you normally like.” 

Was - was Nathan  _ nervous?  _ He definitely  _ looked  _ nervous. He ran his hand across his stubble and leaned further forwards, his shoulders somewhere up near his ears, his elbows resting on his knees. If he  _ was  _ nervous, that would mean - that would mean that - ok, Duke didn’t  _ know  _ what it meant but it certainly  _ suggested  _ that Nathan cared about not fucking this up and  _ that  _ meant that he didn’t want this whole thing to end either. 

“It was good, Nate. It was enough.” That was as much reassurance as Duke could offer without saying  _ ‘it was fucking amazing’  _ and he couldn’t say that because that would be  _ too much.  _ Better to play it cool, get his head around what had just happened before he opened his big mouth and fucked it up.

That seemed to satisfy Nathan because he nodded and uncurled himself to meet Duke’s eyes. “Sorry. About the…” he trailed off and tapped his finger on his neck, in the spot that corresponded to where he’d left the mark on Duke’s neck earlier.

“The hickey? Don’t worry about it.”

“Duke…”

“No, it’s fine, really.”

“It’s not  _ fine.  _ Shouldn’t’ve done it.”

Duke shrugged, desperately trying not to get drawn into a discussion he really didn’t want to be having.

Nathan shifted his weight to move closer and rested his hand on Duke’s blanket covered knee. “Know you don’t want to talk but we need to.”

_ Great.  _ Fucking great. Apparently they were going to have to have a conversation about this. Duke took another sip of his beer, stalling, trying to work out how he could get out of this.

“Nate, really, it’s not a problem, nothing to apologise for or talk about.” A last ditch attempt to put Nathan off. 

“There is.”

Duke sighed. “Fine. Talk.” 

Maybe that would work. Nathan  _ hated  _ talking. Putting pressure on him to do so might just shut him up.  _ Might.  _

Or maybe not. 

Nathan took a deep breath and stared at the floor. “I’m sorry. I did something you specifically asked me not to and that was wrong.”

“Like I said, no big deal.” Something was scratching at Duke’s brain, a tiny thought, a tiny glimmer of  _ hope _ that was trying to claw its way out.

“Don’t. Don’t brush it off,” Nathan said sharply. “If you’re not upset, great, but I should’ve checked in first, not just done it. So I’m telling you I’m sorry.”

Duke had the urge to move again. He fiddled with his bottle, picking at the edge of the label as the little flash of hope nagged at him again. Nathan was right. He  _ had  _ crossed a line. One that Duke didn’t mind that he’d crossed but he was acknowledging it, he was apologising for it, taking responsibility. He was being reassuring and that - that felt like Nathan caring. Like being cared for.

Which wasn’t exactly  _ news,  _ Duke knew that was what had been happening from the start but he was starting to  _ like it  _ which was - well, honestly, it was a little scary. A lot scary. Even if it also felt like…

Maybe he was right to hope. Here Nathan was, being thoughtful and sincere, even if he was being  _ awkward.  _ It obviously mattered to him that he’d crossed a fairly insignificant line. And if that mattered, that meant that Duke’s boundaries generally mattered to him and from there, it wasn’t a big leap to assume that maybe  _ Duke  _ mattered to him. 

Maybe he was right to believe there was room for  _ more.  _

But more meant being  _ honest  _ which had never been one of Duke’s strengths. Easier to hide behind a fake smile and sharp words than to bare himself like that.

Now it was his turn to take a deep breath. “Ok. Thank you for apologising, that - I appreciate that. I’m saying it’s not a problem because I don’t feel like it is. I set that as a limit mostly because I didn’t want people asking questions but - I mean, pretty much the whole town knows that we have a thing going and it’s not like a hickey on my neck is gonna give them any clue about  _ what,  _ specifically, we’ve been doing.”

Nathan visibly relaxed. He lightly squeezed Duke’s knee in a surprisingly affectionate gesture. “Glad it’s not a problem. Still sorry I did it without checking in.”

Duke nodded. “Yeah, no, I can understand that but it’s fine, I mean that.”

“Ok, so that’s not a limit now?”

“It’s - oh god, do we really have to talk about this?”

“Yes.”

Duke sighed huffily. “Ok, fine, we’re talking about this. New limits - kissing is fine, visible hickeys are fine, any other marks - bruises, anything that might raise questions - need to stay hidden.”

That was ok. Talking about limits was ok. Redefining limits was not a problem. They didn’t have to talk about  _ why  _ kissing was no longer a limit, or  _ why  _ Duke didn’t mind a visible mark. He didn’t have to admit that he  _ liked it.  _ This was just...renegotiating, drawing new lines, re-establishing boundaries. 

Duke vaguely wondered if he could set  _ not talking about this  _ as a new, very hard, limit but he thought Nathan probably wouldn’t let him get away with that. Which was fair, albeit surprising. Nathan had stepped into the role as Dom in a way that Duke had very much not expected him to when they’d started this. Calm, reassuring, respectful. Firm when he needed to be.  _ Responsible.  _

Within the scene, he was exactly what Duke needed him to be. Outside of it, he was friendly, quiet, supportive, in his own endearingly awkward way. Outside of it, he was  _ Nathan.  _

Right now, he was Nathan-in-Dom-mode and he was nodding. “Ok. Can work with that.”

“Good. Anything else we need to talk about? I’ll give you a hint, the correct answer is ‘no’.”

Nathan smiled at that, softened back into awkward-and-adorable-Nathan. “No. Nothing else.”

Duke let out a small sigh of relief and leaned back against the headboard to finish his beer quickly, before he could overstay his welcome.


	12. Nathan

Nathan watched Duke get into his truck. He gave him a little wave and closed the door with a little twist in his stomach that might have been regret.

He paid it no mind, focussed instead on the lingering post-sex bliss that left him relaxed and boneless. Rather like being high on dope. At least as far as he remembered from his college days. He hadn’t done it often, it had seemed incongruous for a criminal justice student, but he’d liked the feeling it had given him. Calm, like he was floating. Quiet. His mind had been quiet. Something that didn’t happen often.

Sex with Duke gave him the same feeling and tonight had hit a whole other level.

The empty beer bottles made a satisfying clink when he dropped them into the recycling box. He was absurdly pleased to  _ have  _ bottles to put in the recycling. Which was ridiculous. It wasn’t a new thing, he and Duke always had a beer or two, but Duke had indulged him, had stayed for a few extra minutes. He hadn’t run away. Even after things got  _ different. _

Different was one word for it. Surprising. Unexpected.

But good. Really,  _ really _ good.

Maybe it was stupid, it was just  _ kissing,  _ after all, pretty tame compared to everything else he and Duke did but it made him feel  _ special  _ in a way that their previous sessions  _ hadn’t.  _

Well, they sort of had. What Duke gave to him always made him feel a bit special. The trust that he put in Nathan every single time; the way he gave his body to Nathan, to use or to hurt. He put everything of himself in Nathan’s hands and it was a gift. An honour, to be trusted like that.

But kissing? Kissing made him feel like -

Oh.

Oh  _ crap.  _

Nathan stopped in his tracks. Literally stopped dead, his mouth hanging slightly open. He closed it with an audible snap. It was supposed to be  _ just sex.  _ Fulfilling Duke’s needs. He enjoyed it too, but it wasn’t - he was  _ not supposed  _ to have  _ feelings.  _ Feelings were not part of the plan but apparently here he was.

Because kissing was  _ more.  _ It wasn’t just sex, it was intimate.

_ Duke wanted intimacy with him.  _

The thought made him grin. Probably goofily but he didn’t much care. There was no one there to see him or judge him and he was damn well going to grin about the fact that  _ Duke wanted him.  _

Ok, so he didn’t know exactly  _ what  _ Duke wanted and they were probably going to have to talk about that at some point but pushing that conversation wasn’t likely to go well. Best to let Duke come round to it in his own time. He was changing the boundaries, seeking more contact, moving his limits. Tonight, Nathan had been given something that Duke had previously been unwilling to share and that  _ mattered.  _

It mattered.

Still grinning, Nathan wandered from room to room, remembering. 

Duke in his kitchen, drinking beer and laughing. Relaxed and happy. Like old times, before he’d fucked everything up.

Duke in his lounge, cuddled up on the couch under a blanket after their scene, small and vulnerable, though he’d never admit it. 

Duke in his bedroom, his hands on the wall, waiting for Nathan’s belt across his ass. Trusting. Full of anticipation and want.

Nathan put his hands there now, closed his eyes, took a deep breath; the memory was so sharp he could almost smell Duke in the room, sandalwood and salt and spices. Images flashed through his mind, more memories of their times together and he clung to each one as though it was precious. Something he never wanted to forget. 

Duke handcuffed to his bed, waiting, completely under Nathan’s control. He put himself there so willingly, so  _ eagerly  _ that it took Nathan’s breath away every single time.

His ass, red from the belt, stark against the unmarked skin on his back and thighs. The beautiful curve of his body that contrasted with his long limbs and sharp angles.

His expression, as they fucked face to face for the first time, full of a sort of contained desperation, like he wanted to beg and plead and demand more but wouldn’t because it wasn’t part of their deal.

Little things like the tickle of his hair on Nathan’s nose and the scratch of goatee on his shoulder. Bigger things like the soft press of his lips. Gentler than Nathan had expected on those sleepless nights when he’d wondered what it might be like to kiss Duke.

Grinning, he ran his fingers across his lips, remembering every detail about how Duke’s lips had felt against his and -

_ Oh man,  _ he had it bad. If he wasn’t careful, next he’d be doodling “I heart Duke Crocker” in every notepad he could find.

He told himself to man up and, for a minute, he did. He tidied up the room, put away the lube and condoms (making a mental note to buy more), and started to change the sheets. 

Then he remembered how Duke had felt in his arms, warm and solid and comforting. How, on rare occasions, he would relax into the embrace and how privileged it made Nathan feel when he did that. By Duke’s own admission, not many people had been allowed to hold him in that way and, even though it had originally been Nathan pushing for it, Duke had accepted it, tolerated it and now welcomed it.

It was special.

It was a feeling he wanted to recapture.

Laughing, he threw himself onto the bed and hugged the pillow that Duke had been holding earlier, while Nathan was getting the beers. The pillow that smelled of both of them. He liked that. He liked Duke being in his space. So he abandoned his attempt to man up and allowed himself to be sappy, to indulge in that sense of being favoured, of being given something that Duke had previously not been willing to share.

*

Having spent his rare weekend off trying to work out what, exactly, he was going to do about this whole thing and not getting any further forwards - (was he supposed to invite Duke on a date that he would inevitably say no to? Or suggest going for a beer or a coffee? What about fishing?) - Nathan was still in a silly, giddy mood by the time he arrived at the station on Monday morning.

“Morning Laverne,” he greeted her as he walked in, laden down with a huge tray of donuts and an equally huge tray of coffees for everyone.

“Morning hon,” she greeted him in return. She gratefully grabbed a coffee and retreated to the call room.

Humming to himself, Nathan set down the coffees and donuts on an empty desk in the middle of the bullpen.

“Morning Stan.”

“Good morning, Chief. Good weekend?” 

“Uh-” Nathan hesitated, suddenly aware that everyone was staring at him as though he’d grown an extra head. Maybe his flies were undone. Or his shirt was untucked. A quick glance down revealed that no, that wasn’t the problem. “Why do you ask?”

“Not like you to bring coffee and donuts and I could’ve sworn you were humming. And you’re definitely smiling. Not complaining, just nice to see you happy.”

Nathan rearranged his face into a more work-appropriate neutral expression. “Yes, it was a good weekend, thank you for asking.”

He could have kicked himself for how formal he sounded, how  _ stiff  _ and unfriendly but he could have kicked himself more for the outward display of  _ feelings.  _

The Chief had long drummed into him that emotions had no place at work. If you had to have them, you had them at home, alone, preferably locked in the bathroom where there was no chance of anyone seeing you but yet here he was, wearing his heart on his sleeve and a smile on his face, at seven o’clock on a Monday morning.

That was not good. Very not good. He quickly made some polite excuses, grabbed a coffee, and strode off to his office where he closed the door and sat down at the desk.

Since he’d been a child (since his mom had died), he’d followed his father’s rule of No Emotions. He’d worked hard to keep his soft spots to himself. Especially at work, he’d always remained stoically professional and now he’d shown  _ everyone  _ that he had a soft side. One that he’d doubted he still had.

Safely shut in his office, he started going through case files and notes from the overnight shift.

Or, he tried. Except his leg kept jiggling of its own accord and he felt vaguely sick so he put down all of the paperwork and sipped the coffee he no longer really needed.

He’d been  _ too obvious.  _ Half the town seemed to know he was having a thing with Duke which meant that everyone at the station knew. The thought that they might be gossipping behind his back sent an unpleasant jolt into the pit of his stomach.

What if-

What if someone made the assumption that  _ Duke  _ was the reason he’d had a good weekend and was all happy and full of smiles? It wouldn’t be a big leap and it wouldn’t exactly be inaccurate. He hadn’t worked this stuff out for himself yet. He really,  _ really  _ didn’t want Duke to find out on the grapevine that Nathan was behaving like a lovesick teenager.

What if-

What if Duke  _ did  _ find out? Before Nathan had a chance to speak to him or do anything about it? What if him having feelings beyond  _ just sex  _ freaked Duke out?

_ Oh god,  _ what if-

What if-

Other people knew  _ before Duke.  _

What if Duke thought everyone knew and everyone had been talking about it? He hadn’t been happy when there was gossip flying around about them before and yeah, sure, they’d both said they didn’t mind that people knew and Duke had openly said he didn’t mind who knew, as long as the details were kept private but this…? This was a whole different ball game. He’d get upset. He’d freak out. Back off.

Nathan had fucked this up before he’d even started. Before he’d even really worked out how he felt and what he was going to do about it

He wasn’t sure which was worse. That he’d probably fucked up everything with Duke, or that he’d been vulnerable in the workplace. It was a  _ professional environment,  _ his team needed to respect him or he wouldn’t be effective at his job. His job was important to him. More so than anything else in his life.

_ That’s not exactly true anymore, is it?  _ A little voice inside him nagged at him. He shut it up with a long swallow of still-too-hot coffee that burned his throat on the way down.

It burned enough that he needed a drink of water. He emerged from his office and strode across to the water cooler, followed by a peal of laughter that immediately made his jaw ache and his shoulders tense.

“Rafferty, Stark,” he barked out. 

“Chief-” Rebecca started but he cut her off.

“Don’t know what’s so funny but you two are police officers. Act like it.”

“We were just-” Stark tried.

“Don’t care what you were  _ just,  _ this is a police station. No gossiping. No flirting. Talk about your cases or don’t talk at all.”

With that, he stomped back to his office and slammed the door. He knew he’d been unfair. Rude, even. He sat back at his desk and leaned his forehead on his hands for a moment before he sat up and ran his hand across his jaw. 

Back to work.

He’d barely opened the case file before there was a tap on the door. 

Dwight entered without waiting for an answer and perched on the edge of the spare desk, arms folded across his chest as he stared levelly at Nathan.

“Something you need?” Nathan asked waspishly. He sounded, even to his own ears, remarkably like his father and he tried to soften his tone with a smile.

“Nope. Just wondering what all that-” Dwight waved his hand in the direction of the bullpen “-was about.”

“All what?” 

Dwight raised his eyebrows. “Yelling at Rebecca and Paul.”

“Ah. That.”

_ That.  _ Not his finest moment. Even worse when his second in command had to come into his office and call him on it. 

“Something going on?”

Nathan hesitated for the briefest of seconds and shook his head. “Nope.”

Dwight’s eyebrows crept up his forehead again, disbelieving.

Which was fair. His behaviour had been off all day, he knew that. Bringing coffee and donuts had been a mistake. So had humming to himself and smiling at everyone. Going from that to snapping had just made it even more obvious that there was something up. He should probably say something. Anything. Just say it was a bad day, he didn’t have to admit it had anything to do with Duke. But that would lead to questions and more questions and Dwight was completely the wrong person to talk to about any of this. Not that he’d be  _ judgey  _ or anything like it. He just wouldn’t understand. 

Nathan raised his own eyebrows in return. “Nothing going on. This is a police station, not a social club so if we can all get back to work…?”

That was harsh. He knew it was harsh. Dwight was only trying to help, to smooth things over, but Nathan was desperate to avoid any discussion that might reveal what was really going on.

“Chief-”

“Nothing is going on,” Nathan interrupted, speaking through gritted teeth. “Nothing except apparently I’m the only one who does any work around here. Everyone else is gossipping or laughing or sticking their noses into other peoples business,” he finished, pointedly.

Dwight scoffed and stood up. “Whatever the hell is going on, Nathan, sort it out. Everyone here works hard and you know it. Get the stick out of your ass and stop taking it out on the rest of us.”

With that, Dwight turned and left, letting the door slam behind him on his way out.

Nathan sighed and ran his hand across his jaw again. He deserved that. All of that. He was being an ass and he knew it. He often was when he was Having Emotions but now he was taking it out on people he worked with, people he’d call  _ friends,  _ even. It was rude and unprofessional and utterly unbefitting the Chief of Police.

He’d let himself down. Personally and professionally. 

He had to fix this. Apologise to the whole team but especially to Rebecca and Paul and Dwight. And Laverne. He hadn’t snapped at her but she would have heard all of it and she was like a mother to him, had been since his own mom had died when he was eight. He’d let her down too.

If his father had still been Chief, Nathan knew he would have copped hell for everything he’d just said. But he wasn’t.  _ Nathan  _ was Chief, even if he didn’t deserve the title.

And now the whole thing would probably get back to the Chief. He wasn’t sure which was worse - having to explain to the Chief why he was snapping at all of his officers and destroying the team he’d so carefully built up over the years, or the possibility of any of this getting back to Duke and having to explain to  _ him  _ why he was alternating between grinning like an idiot and snapping like an asshole.

Because the problem was, he was  _ still  _ grinning like an idiot every time he thought of Duke. If someone mentioned Duke’s name, he was probably going to giggle and then the whole thing would be out in the open. He had to  _ do something  _ about this. Get his head straight. Any way he could.

He sighed again, stood up, and went to knock on the door to the dispatch room.

“Got a minute?” he asked when Laverne called him inside.

“Sure, sugar, what can I do for you?”

Nathan closed the door behind him so they wouldn’t be overheard and perched on the edge of Laverne’s desk. “It’s uh - it’s personal.”

Laverne patted his knee. “Ah hon. This about Duke Crocker?”

“What?” Nathan said, more sharply than intended. “Does the whole damn town know?”

“Doubt it, the way you two are keeping it under wraps but I’ve known you since you were a kid, Nathan. I can read you like a book. So, come over later and we’ll chat over a nice bowl of gooey mac and cheese. How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Nathan said, softening. “Want me to bring anything?”

“Marshmallows for cocoa, just like when you were a kid.”

Nathan laughed. “I’ll get them,” he promised.

“Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t be. See you then.”

“See you later, sugar.” Laverne patted his knee again and Nathan stood up to go out.

“Thanks, Laverne,” he said before he closed the door behind him.

*

Before he left the station that evening, Nathan made certain to apologise to everyone, individually rather than publicly; a few quiet, well chosen words would have more impact than a grand speech, which he wasn’t particularly good at anyway. He didn’t explain, didn’t offer excuses, just said that he was out of order and was sorry. 

Everyone had taken it in good spirits. Rafferty still seemed a little distant and Stark had been somewhat snippy, but there was no whispering in corners so clearly the worst of the crisis was over.

Dwight had taken his words with a silent nod which wasn’t great. He had more work to do there. Maybe he should just be open about what the problem had been but he really couldn’t take the risk that Dwight would mention it to Claire or to Lizzie, either of whom might mention it to someone else and then it was only a matter of time before it got back to Duke. He’d worry about that tomorrow, though. After he’d spoken to Laverne and hopefully gotten his head a little clearer.

Apologies made, he went home, had a shower and got changed. Then he made two stops on his way to Laverne’s house and rang the doorbell at precisely seven o’clock.

“C’mon in, sweetcheeks,” Laverne said, ushering him inside.

“Sweetcheeks? Really?” Nathan said, amused. He passed Laverne the bag of marshmallows he was carrying, and produced a bunch of flowers from behind his back.

Laverne smiled. “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you. Come through to the kitchen, dinner’s almost ready.”

Nathan followed her through the house he knew so well and into the kitchen that he’d spent more time in as a child than he had in his own home - at least after his mom died and the Chief emotionally checked out. No family dinners at home but here, with Laverne and her kids, he’d gotten a little taste of what that might be like. He’d never forgotten it. That feeling of warmth. Not literally, the Chief had always kept the heat cranked up and home was warm but it lacked love and caring and family. His physical needs had been met but his emotional ones...less so. At least until Laverne had joined the department and immediately seen a kid in need of a mother figure. 

She’d invited him for dinner the same day she’d met him, when he’d been doing homework in the Chief’s office while he was out on a call. Mac and cheese with bacon bits, a banana split for dessert, and a cocoa before the Chief had picked him up. He’d loved every mouthful and every minute he’d spent there. He’d helped clean up, of course, and minded his manners, and he hadn’t been able to suppress a shy grin when he’d been invited back the next time the Chief was working late.

After that, he’d become a firm fixture. Laverne’s kids were a couple of years younger than him and he’d been entrusted with walking them home from school, a responsibility he’d taken with his typical earnest seriousness.

It had made up, in a small way, for losing Duke. They’d been best friends when they were kids, especially after Duke’s father had died. Duke was at his house every day after school, having milk and cookies that Nathan’s mom had made, then playing, doing homework, staying for dinner. But after his mom had died, the Chief had insisted that Nathan had nothing to do with Duke. That had hurt almost as much as losing his mom. 

They stayed friends at school, where the Chief would never find out. But those afternoons and early evenings spent on carefree games and helping each other with subjects were gone, except for the rare occasions that Nathan summoned up the courage to go against his father’s wishes and snuck out to hang with Duke. Something he did more and more as they grew older and he was filled with teen rebelliousness. At least in his own, quiet way.

That’s why it had hurt so damn much when Duke upped and left town with barely a word. Nathan had come back from the academy, excited to reconnect with his best friend but the first time he saw him, he knew. Duke had changed. He was darker, somehow. More bitter. Harder. He’d always been prone to snarking but now his words were designed to  _ hurt.  _

They’d made the effort for a while. Nathan had told him how terrified he was of never living up to his father’s expectations and about how awful he was at his job. In his first week, he’d screwed up an investigation and let the perpetrator go free. He was hopeless. His father was angry. He’d turned to Duke and poured his heart out. He’d even cried, sitting on the boat that Duke had won in a card game two years previously.

And then Duke had left. Not three weeks later, he’d come to Nathan in the middle of the night, wild eyed and drunk, and said he was leaving. He’d asked Nathan to go with him but he hadn’t meant it. That was the whiskey talking. Nathan had played along, said he’d think about it. Duke had hugged him and said he was sorry. He was gone with the first tide. He didn’t even wait for Nathan’s answer.

Nathan had been lost. He’d stood on the docks, staring at the empty space where the Cape Rouge should have been, and cried.

By the time Duke came back, ten years later, muscled and tanned and sporting more tattoos than Nathan remembered, it was all too easy to fall into the trap of snapping and snarling at each other instead of dealing with the hurt.

Maybe ten years should have been long enough for Nathan to have gotten over it but he hadn’t. Duke had been his best friend. Duke had been the only person who truly knew and understood him. Duke had been the one person he could say anything to. The betrayal had been like a knife to his stomach.

But now -

“Sit down,” Laverne said as she put the flowers into a vase of water. “Dinner’s almost ready. Mac and cheese and bacon bits.”

“Banana split for dessert?” Nathan grinned and took a seat at the table.

“And cocoa with marshmallows.” Laverne grinned back. She grabbed Nathan a beer from the fridge, poured herself a glass of wine and pulled the mac and cheese from the oven.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No, hon, you’re all good. Take some time to relax, been a rough day for you.”

Nathan shrugged. “Not really.”

“Yeah, it was,” Laverne said, serving up large portions of gooey mac and cheese. “You had to  _ people,  _ as my kids would say. I know you find that hard sometimes.”

That drew a small, soft chuckle from Nathan’s lips. “Yeah. I do find it hard sometimes.”

Laverne set a plate down in front of him and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll let you in on a secret, sometimes so do all of us.”

Nathan grinned wryly. “Me more than most.”

“Not like you had the best role model in that department.” Laverne sat down with her own plate of food.

“Yeah, guess so,” Nathan said quietly.

“Sorry sugar, shouldn’t speak about your father like that. He’s a good man, he was a good cop, a good Chief but sweetie, he was a terrible father to you.”

Nathan swallowed hard around the sudden lump in his throat and nodded. The Chief  _ had  _ been a terrible father, but then he wasn’t Nathan’s biological father so it was only natural that he’d been more interested in his job than in his son. 

It still stung. Even now. 

He’d spent his whole life trying to prove his place, and to show how grateful he was that the Chief had kept him. No matter how bad things were, they were better than they would have been if the Chief had never taken in Nathan and his mom, or if the Chief had sent him to a group home after his mom died. Nathan was grateful. He really was. He knew who his biological father was. If the Chief hadn’t taken them in, he was in no doubt that he and his mom would both have ended up dead. No amount of forgotten birthdays and missed parent-teacher evenings compared to what his life would have been like with Max Hansen.

So he’d tried to make the Chief proud. He’d called him dad. He  _ thought  _ of him as dad. The Chief was his father, biology be damned. And he tried to be strong. He’d buried his emotions, gotten good grades in school, been made president of the AV club; he’d gone to college, the academy, joined the force and taken over as Chief. None of it had worked. Even now, he still couldn’t live up to his father’s ideals of what made a man.

The last year - ok, maybe not quite a year, but since he’d started this  _ thing  _ with Duke - he’d all but stopped caring what his father thought about anything he did, at least outside of work. But still. The reminder of what his childhood had been like  _ hurt.  _

He shoved it to the back of his mind. Talking about the Chief wasn’t what he’d come here for. That was old news; a lifetime of hurt to undo. He could worry about it some other time.

For now, he was going to enjoy dinner with his mom-friend and hopefully get some sensible advice on what to do about the Duke situation. He took a bite of his mac and cheese and smiled. “Just like I remember.”

Laverne grinned. “Figured you’d appreciate a bit of childhood comfort.”

“I do. I really, really do.”

“Good. Now eat up and we can talk about what’s bothering you so much about Duke.”

They kept the conversation light over dinner, with Laverne filling Nathan in on all the latest news from her kids, and now grandkids. Once they were done, Nathan quickly jumped up. He cleared the dishes and washed up while Laverne served their dessert.

The banana split was just as good as Nathan remembered. When they’d finished, Laverne made them each a cocoa, complete with the marshmallows Nathan had picked up, and they went to sit in the lounge.

“So,” Laverne said as she made herself comfortable on the couch. “Duke Crocker, huh?”

“Duke Crocker,” Nathan confirmed, allowing a little soft smile to curve his lips.

He  _ could,  _ now. Away from the station, sitting with Laverne, free from judgement, he could allow himself to feel that little spark of giddiness. He could let himself smile and be soft. All he got in return was an equally soft smile from Laverne.

“And by the look of that smile, you’ve got it bad, right, hon?”

“Yeah.” Nathan sighed the word out. 

Yeah, he had it bad. He’d had it bad for Duke for a lot longer than he really wanted to admit to but the moment Duke had kissed him, he’d fallen hard and fast, allowed the feelings he’d been suppressing for months (years) to surface. Now he was in what could only be described as a mess. A lovesick, confused, mess.

Laverne patted his shoulder. “So what was it you wanted to talk about?”

“What do I do about this?” Nathan answered in a very small voice.

“This?”

“Duke.”

“Sugar, I’m gonna need you to be more specific here. Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me what’s going on?”

Nathan sighed and nodded. “All started after that call I got to the hospital, kinda started putting our friendship back together after all the shit, and then - and it was meant to be casual,” he said, his face burning, mortified that he’d basically just admitted to his - well, to his mom-figure that he was having no strings attached sex with Duke Crocker.

Laverne just nodded and smiled sympathetically. “And then you caught feelings, right?”

Nathan managed a small smile at that. “Yeah. Then I caught feelings.”

“And you don’t know what to do about it because it was supposed to be a casual relationship?”

“Exactly. Duke made it clear from the start that it would never be anything more than what it was. I’m sure he doesn’t feel the same and I don’t know if I should just be happy with what we have or if I should tell him how I feel and risk him ending it. Or if I should just end it and walk away.”

“Forget should, what do you want?” 

“I don’t know that either.”

“Ok, so what happens if you walk away?”

_ I put Duke at risk for going back to someone that might hurt him.  _ Nathan didn’t say that. “I’ll miss him,” he said instead. A truthful, if only partial, answer.

“Ok. And if you keep going as you are?”

“Nothing happens. Nothing changes.”

“And will that be enough for you? Because it seems pretty rough on you to be having a casual relationship with someone you care deeply for.”

Nathan shrugged. Maybe it would be enough, maybe it wouldn’t, but it would be better than either of the alternatives, both of which involved Duke not being in his life at all.

Laverne patted his shoulder again. “And if you tell Duke how you feel? What does that look like?”

The bark of laughter that escaped from Nathan was harsher than he’d intended. “Who knows with Duke? You know what he’s like, almost impossible to predict. Either he’ll freak out and run a mile - and I couldn’t blame him - or he’ll surprise the hell out of me and say he feels the same but...I can’t see it. I don’t think he does.”

“I think you might be surprised,” Laverne said gently. “Are you sure you’re not just projecting because you’re scared of what a future with Duke might look like?”

“What  _ does  _ a future with Duke look like? Sunday brunch and crosswords in bed? I don’t think so. Duke leaves. A future with Duke involves a broken heart the next time he decides to up and leave Haven. How can I trust him with anything  _ real  _ when he leaves?”

“I don’t think that was a decision so much as it was a necessity.”

“Necessity?!” Nathan scoffed. “What’s  _ necessary  _ about leaving town?”

Leaving  _ me,  _ he didn’t add. They’d been best friends back then. Sure, it had been rough around the edges and Duke had been hard and bitter, but they’d still been  _ friends.  _ Still trusted each other. And then Duke had packed up and gone. Without waiting for Nathan’s answer. Nathan had gone down to the slip and there’d been no sign of the Rouge and his heart had shattered.

Laverne frowned. “Did he - Nathan, sugar, didn’t he tell you why he was leaving?”

Nathan scoffed again. “Nope. Didn’t explain when he got back either. Nothing.”

“Oh my god. I didn’t know. I thought you were just pissed at him for helping you without asking.”

“What do you mean, Laverne?” Nathan asked, more sharply than he’d meant to.

“Remember when you first joined the force? And you so desperately wanted to impress your father but you were still learning and it felt like everything was against you and all you could make were mistakes?”

Nathan nodded, his heart already beginning to sink. He’d told Duke all of that. Had, in fact, cried his heart out on Duke’s shoulder because he was a failure. An abject  _ failure.  _ And Duke had comforted him, had hugged him and rubbed his back and said it was all going to be ok. He’d been right. It had been.

“And your father put you on the overnight shift and we started getting those anonymous tips, always when you were on duty. Some were small, some were bigger and you made that big drugs bust and got yourself put back on the day shift and your father clapped you on the back, said you weren’t as bad a cop as he’d thought.”

Nathan nodded again, not trusting himself to speak as the realisation slowly started to hit him.

“The tips came from Duke, hon, and he attracted the attention of some very unpleasant people. Your father went to see him, to offer police protection, make sure he knew there was a price on his head, but Duke had already left. We all assumed you knew, you two were always so close, and then you were like a bear with a sore head so we all steered well away from the subject of Duke Crocker.”

_ Oh fuck.  _ Nathan sank down into the couch, his cocoa forgotten, the mug hanging from his fingers. All these years. All these years he’d thought Duke was just pissed at him for becoming a cop, and he’d been pissed because he’d thought Duke had moved on without him and now - now - 

_ Fuck. _

Duke hadn’t moved on. Duke hadn’t left him behind. Duke had helped him. Duke had secured his place on the force, restored his shattered confidence after a less than ideal beginning to his police career, and put his fucking life at risk to do it. He’d left to  _ survive.  _

And Nathan had  _ punished  _ him for it. He’d never even given him a chance to explain. He’d been angry and bitter and had never listened to Duke’s apologies because he was too busy resenting the fact that Duke had left.

His heart thundered in his chest, his stomach somewhere down around his boots as he thought about that. About how badly he’d treated Duke. About how Duke, somehow, still trusted him with everything that they did. 

He’d hurt Duke. He’d known that for a while, he just didn’t know the depths of it. And Duke  _ still trusted him.  _ Still put his body and safety into Nathan’s hands.

It took courage that Nathan would never know. Those anonymous tips took courage that Nathan would never know.

How hadn’t he known? How could he have missed what his best friend had done for him? If he missed that, what else had he missed? Was there more to their past - to  _ Duke’s  _ past that he didn’t know?

How could he have behaved so badly towards Duke?

The questions galloped, unanswered, through his mind, keeping pace with his racing heart.

Laverne took the mostly empty mug from his hand and set it down on the table. She gently patted the back of his hand. “There, there, sweetcheeks. Guess that was a bit of a revelation for you.”

Nathan nodded, his mouth cotton dry.

“Want my advice?”

Nathan nodded again, all he could manage right now.

“Before you make any decisions about whether to tell Duke how you feel, talk this through with him. Sort out what looks like a huge misunderstanding and a breakdown in communication between two friends who should have known better.” Laverne’s voice was gentle.

Nathan blinked furiously against the sudden sting of tears.

She was right. She was absolutely right. They -  _ he -  _ should have known better. He should have known better than to believe Duke - his  _ best friend -  _ would up and leave him like that without a damn good reason. 

But he hadn’t. 

Back then, there was enough friction between them that he hadn’t been able to see that or consider what that reason might have been. He should have. He really should have.

A tiny part of him argued, plaintively, that Duke could have explained when he got back, he could have made more of an effort to make Nathan understand what he’d done and why, but a bigger part of him told it to shut up. Duke  _ had  _ tried to explain, Nathan just hadn’t let him. He’d jumped straight in with snarls and sarcasm and maybe a threat or two for good measure, just to make sure Duke knew he was still angry. Duke hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise before Nathan had stalked off again. It had been downhill from there. 

And it was all Nathan’s fault.

He gave Laverne a thin smile and a nod, told her she was right, then made his excuses and left after thanking her profusely - both for dinner and her advice. She hugged him and told him it would be ok. That whatever happened, he'd be ok. He wasn't so convinced about that.

By the time he got home, his head was still in a whirl, thoughts clamouring for space. 

Duke didn't leave him. Duke helped him. Duke deserved better from him.

Slowly, a little glimmer of hope appeared.

If Duke had cared enough to do that for him back then, and if Duke still trusted him enough to do what they were doing, maybe that meant there was a way forward into something new.

And if there wasn't, he could at least be the person to fulfill Duke's needs. He could give him that much.

The rest…? That could wait until he had his head straighter. The apology was too important to rush into it with half thought out words.


	13. Duke

Wednesday. What was it with Wednesdays? They always seemed to have it in for Duke. Whenever anything went wrong, it was a Wednesday. Whether it was staffing problems or supplier issues or the online banking system being down so he couldn’t send the wages across and had to pay them from his personal account instead, it was always a fucking Wednesday.

On this particular Wednesday, however, even the inescapable supplier problems couldn’t bring him down from the cloud he’d been floating on since the previous Friday night.

The week seemed to have flown by, yet somehow stretched. His next meeting? Session?  _ Date?  _ Whatever they were calling it, it was still achingly distant though it was only two days away. Two days should have been  _ nothing.  _

Except that those two days felt like forever with the same thoughts repeating themselves over and over again, as they had been since that night. 

He'd kissed Nathan. Nathan had kissed him back. Kissing was now on the agenda, after that horrifyingly awkward conversation about renegotiating limits. Maybes and possibilities and dreams of a starry eyed future that involved lazy Sunday brunches with coffee and croissants and crosswords flew through his head until he squashed them down hard. It was just a kiss. Ok, a lot of kisses but still. Just because Nathan had allowed  _ (enthusiastically reciprocated,  _ the dreamy side of him pointed out) the kisses didn’t mean it was anything more for him than just a small development in the arrangement they already had. It didn’t mean Nathan wanted  _ more.  _

_ Play it slow,  _ he reminded himself. Rushing things would just result in his hopes being punched to the floor and he wanted to cling onto those hopes for as long as he could before he had to face reality.

He sighed. Reality that included writing a carefully worded and very pointed email to his supplier. Not his idea of fun. He hit send and sat back in his chair to finish his coffee.

He’d barely taken a sip before there was a tap at the door and Tracy stuck her head around the door.

“You have visitors,” she announced.

Odd. There was still an hour to go before opening and people didn’t usually stop by in the morning. Duke had a feeling that had to do with the fact that his reputation suggested he didn’t get out of bed until lunchtime but actually, nothing could be further from the truth. Up at seven, coffee, run, yoga, shower, breakfast, more coffee, at the Gull by nine thirty. At least, assuming he hadn’t been awake until half past middle of the night, then he sometimes turned off his alarm and slept later but as a general rule, he was one of those annoying morning people, even if he didn’t hold with the standard nine-to-five lifestyle.

“Ok, thanks Tracy, be out in a minute.”

“Need me to do anything in here?”

“Uh, no, I don’t thi- actually yes. Can you keep an eye out for a reply from Markson’s and if they say anything other than profuse apologies and a promise to deliver tomorrow, give them hell?”

Tracy laughed. “Yeah, no problem.”

“Thanks.” Duke stood and relinquished his chair to Tracy.

"Gloria!" he greeted her when he found her in the bar. "How are you? Haven't seen you for ag-" he cut off when he saw the familiar, lanky figure beside her. "Henry!"

"Hi kiddo," Gloria greeted him in return, giving him an uncharacteristic warm hug. "I'm good, how are you?"

"Yeah, no, I'm good, thanks. Everything ok?"

"Sure is. Henry here wanted to stop by and say hello. Figured you'd appreciate not having to worry about underage teenagers in your bar so we came before opening."

Henry stepped forward, shy and hesitant but a hundred times less skittish than he'd been last time Duke had seen him. Also a hundred times healthier. He'd put on some weight, the dark circles under his eyes and pale skin were gone, replaced by colour in his cheeks, and he had clothes that fit. Of course, not being freezing cold or dripping wet probably helped with the overall appearance but he seemed  _ better.  _ Genuinely better.

Duke took the hand Henry extended towards him and shook it. "How are you doing, Henry?"

"I'm good," Henry said earnestly, though a little offhand, as if he had something prepared that he wanted to say and needed to get it out before he lost his nerve.

Duke smiled encouragingly - or, at least, what he hoped was encouragingly - and took a step back, giving Henry space.

“I, uh, wanted to say…” Henry trailed off; if he’d had carefully planned words, they seemed to have deserted him. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Glad things are looking better for you.”

Henry nodded, only to jerk forward when Gloria gave him a nudge. 

“Tell Duke what you told me,” she said.

“I, uh.” Henry swallowed hard and started again. “That night - what you did for me that night, giving me food, somewhere to stay, calling your boyf- your friend and getting me a place with Gloria - pretty sure you saved my life.” He choked up a little on the last word and flung himself at Duke, hugging him tightly.

“Uh-” Duke looked to Gloria for rescue but found none so he gently hugged Henry in return, patted his back and pulled away. 

Or, he tried to but Henry clung to him, sniffling slightly, so Duke resigned himself to accepting the hug.

“Thank you,” Henry mumbled against Duke’s shoulder.

Duke patted his back again. “No problem, really. I made a phone call, that’s all.”

Henry shook his head and pulled away. “No. You cared. No one else did but you saw me and you helped.”

Duke nodded. “Ok. Guess I should say ‘you’re welcome’ because that’s what people are supposed to say but that feels like I’m bestowing some great gift on you and that - I dunno, feels wrong to me. I did what was right and it was no problem. I’m just glad you got the help you needed.”

“It was a gift,” Henry mumbled, or started to, before Gloria squeezed his shoulder.

“Ok, kiddo, think we’ve embarrassed Duke enough for one day,” she said. “Let’s get out of here, leave him to get back to whatever he was doing before we interrupted.”

“Arguing with suppliers,” Duke said, “and I’m in no hurry to get back to it.”

Gloria laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me but Henry here needs to get to school. I don’t mind him skipping phys ed but he’s not cutting math as well.”

Behind her, Henry rolled his eyes and Duke carefully suppressed a smile.

“Feel like I should be doing some sort of responsible adult, don’t skip class lecture but that’s not really me, is it?” he said.

Henry looked relieved not to be on the receiving end of that lecture.

Gloria cackled. “Wouldn’t fit with the bad boy image you’ve created for yourself, that’s for sure. So long as you know that not everyone believes it,” she said, fixing Duke with a look that was almost a glare.

He mimicked Henry and rolled his eyes as he turned away and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. “Here. It’s only you who drinks the top shelf stuff and you haven’t been in for a while so you might as well take it with you.”

“Thanks, kitten,” Gloria said as she took the bottle. “You’ll come round and drink it with me sometime?”

“Any time you like, just not Fr-”

“Not Fridays,” Gloria interrupted. “I know, you’re busy on Fridays.”

Duke let out an awkward little chuckle and changed the subject. “Good to see you, Henry, and good to know you’ve settled in with this cranky old bat.”

“Hey!”

Henry grinned. “Thanks for everything.”

“Anytime,” Duke said.

“Right, kiddo,” Gloria said, gently nudging Henry towards the door. “Let’s get outta here before he comes up with more imaginative insults than cranky and old.”

“I can definitely do better than cranky and old,” Duke called after them, and laughed when Gloria stuck her middle finger up at him.

They stopped just outside the door. Duke could hear the low murmur of voices. Not hushed but not raised. Normal conversation. No cause for alarm, probably someone Gloria knew (and she knew everyone in town so that wasn’t surprising), someone else who was coming in for a pre-opening visit. Rather than going back to the office to stare at emails and figures, he settled for wiping down the bar instead.

He hummed to himself, still floating on a sea of Nathan’s kisses, but now also relishing the sheer relief that Henry was ok. He’d known that anyway. Gloria had let him know how Henry was getting on. But it was a different matter to see it for himself. No one could help the scared, hungry kid that Duke had once been but at least Henry had gotten the help he needed.

It was cathartic.

When the door opened, he stopped humming abruptly. 

_ Nathan.  _

Nathan was here. It couldn’t be for food or drink because they weren’t open, or official police business because his body language was wrong. Cop-Nathan strode everywhere and scowled a lot. Nathan-Nathan was much more hesitant. This particular Nathan had his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched, and a carefully neutral expression as he walked across to where Duke still stood at the bar.

A social visit, then.

“Uh, hi,” he said before Duke got a chance to greet him. “I, uh, I just wanted to check you were - you were still ok for Friday?”

_ Intriguing. _

They hadn’t checked arrangements for months now. Friday night was their time unless one of them said otherwise and neither of them ever did. Between Nathan’s posture, stumbling over words and a question that didn’t need to be asked, Duke could only assume one thing. 

Nathan was uncertain.

His mouth turned dry in an instant. Had he fucked it up? He’d been dreaming of some sort of future for them but what if - what if Nathan was looking for a way out? What if Nathan was hoping he’d say no? 

No. Nathan wouldn’t have driven over here in the middle of the morning on a workday just for that. He’d have sent a text. Coming over here was more likely an excuse to see him.

Duke’s heart fluttered at the thought - the  _ possibility  _ \- behind this one simple action.  _ Nathan wanted to see him.  _ Nathan was uneasy, for sure, but he wasn’t looking for a way out. He was looking for reassurance that  _ Duke still wanted this.  _

In that split second, in the single heartbeat after Nathan had spoken, Duke made a decision. Nathan needed that reassurance. He needed  _ more.  _ And there was one very easy way to give him that without changing any of the rules they’d set.

“Yeah, no, of course. Why don’t you - you should come to my place. Same time?”

A smile crept across Nathan’s lips, slowly lighting up his whole face ( _ the whole room,  _ Duke thought, then brushed the notion away as being too cheesy), and the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders seeped away. “I’d like that.”

Clearly being invited into Duke’s space meant a lot to him.

Duke allowed himself a small moment of relief that he’d got it right. “Bring the beers?”

Nathan nodded. “Ok. See you at seven on Friday.”

“See you then, Nate.”

“Bye, Duke.” Nathan’s voice was soft, almost regretful, as though he wanted to stay for longer, spend more time with Duke, but didn’t have an excuse to hang around.

But maybe that was just wishful thinking, Duke thought as he watched Nathan leave. He was probably reading too much into things.

_ But maybe I’m not.  _

The thought was heady; thrilling and terrifying all at once.

And Friday still felt like forever away.

*

Duke paced from the kitchen to the living area and back again, then into the bedroom to check everything was in place. Lube and condoms on top of the bedside cabinet. Bottles of water on the dresser; a spare blanket folded beside them. Fresh sheets on the bed, ready and waiting to absorb Nathan’s scent. Duke absolutely wasn’t going to spend the next few days rolling around in it. Nope. Definitely not. He double checked the knot on the rope handcuffs he’d tied to the headboard, should Nathan wish to make use of them, and stood back, satisfied. 

All set. 

With a quarter hour to spare, he went back to the living room and picked up the book he was reading (Good Omens, his copy of which was dog eared and battered - there was something cathartic in the blurring of the lines between angel and demon, between good and evil, and he’d read it approximately six million times). After he’d read the same line for the fifth time and it hadn’t sunk in, he put it down and picked up the newspaper instead. Even that couldn’t hold his attention so he stood up and resumed his restless pacing. 

Living area, kitchen, back again. He picked things up and put them back exactly where they’d been in some semblance of tidying up, though the entire boat was immaculate.

Ten minutes to go. He couldn’t bear it any more, so he started cleaning the kitchen for the second time that day (third if you counted the quick wipe down he’d done after breakfast). That was better. At least he was doing something. Something that didn’t need doing but that was better than doing nothing at all and just sitting and waiting and worrying that Nathan wouldn’t turn up, or that he’d be late, or that changing the location would fuck everything up.

Cleaning the kitchen took him up to one minute to seven. When he heard the familiar rumble of Nathan’s Bronco outside, Duke’s heart stuttered. This was it. Nathan was here. For the first time, their session - scene, date, whatever they were calling this - was going to be in  _ his space  _ where he couldn’t easily escape if anything went wrong.

He closed down that line of thinking. Not productive. He trusted Nathan. That’s why they’d started this in the first place and every session had only increased that trust. He wouldn’t have invited Nathan here otherwise.

Instead, he switched his thoughts to obsessing about whether he should meet Nathan on the deck or wait for him to knock on the hatch. 

Meeting him on the deck would be too keen. Waiting for him to knock would be - Duke didn’t know  _ what  _ it would be but it would probably be ok if he looked like he might have been busy, but he didn’t want it to look like he’d been waiting, even though he had been.

The decision was taken out of his hands. 

Nathan knocked on the hatch.

Duke forced himself to wait.  _ Don’t look too keen,  _ he reminded himself. One blink. Another. Then he -  _ slowly -  _ went across to open the hatch.

“Hey,” he said, as casually as he could.

“Hey,” Nathan greeted him in return and held up a six pack. “Brought beers.”

“Thanks.” Duke stepped back from the hatch so Nathan could come in.

Nathan stepped around him, the six pack providing a useful barrier to prevent an awkward ‘are we kissing hello now?’ moment.

Should they kiss hello? Duke wasn’t sure. They’d only discussed kissing as part of a scene, outside of it was a whole different matter. Outside of the scene itself, they were more like friends, no matter how much he might want differently, and in the context of a friend coming over with a six pack, ready to play a few hands of low stakes poker, kissing was very definitely not on the agenda.

He played it safe -  _ no kissing -  _ and led the way through to the kitchen. Nathan passed him a bottle from the pack he’d brought, took one for himself, and put the rest in the fridge for later. Business as usual. Beer, some friendly chit chat, then down to it.

Good.

This was normal.

Except for the fact that Nathan looked comfortably at home in his kitchen. Duke had to squash a little glow of warmth in his heart at the miniscule show of domesticity. He’d put away some beers, that was all.  _ Yeah, but in  _ your  _ fridge, _ a tiny voice piped up inside him.  _ In  _ your  _ kitchen. On  _ your  _ boat.  _

He sipped his beer and ignored the tiny voice. “Fishing’s good, you been out yet?” he asked. Fishing was good. Fishing was a safe topic. 

“Not yet.”

“We should - maybe we could - I dunno, maybe we could head out together sometime.”

Nathan smiled, wide and warm, and nodded. “I’d like that.”

Duke let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Nathan hadn’t rejected him. A day out on the water with no sex on the agenda and Nathan had  _ said yes.  _ More than that, he looked almost absurdly delighted at the idea.

“Great,” he said, “just let me know when.”

“I’ll check my shifts at the station, text you tomorrow.”

“Ok. Tuesdays tend to be good for me because it’s Taco night and my input isn’t exactly required in the kitchen.”

“Noted. I’ll see if Dwight can cover for me. Week Tuesday?”

Duke nodded and took another long sip of his beer. “Will wait to hear from you.”

“I’ll text you,” Nathan said.

It sounded, to Duke’s ears at least, like a promise. He nodded. "Ok."

Nathan gave him a little smile and then his face hardened, like he'd remembered what he was really there for and the talk about fishing had just been a distraction. "So where are we doing this?"

"You mean I get a choice?" Duke couldn't help but snark.

"Your boat, your call."

_ Fuck. _ Why was that so hot? He didn't want control, not over any of this, but Nathan had given it to him anyway, a little show of respect that this was  _ different,  _ that this was  _ Duke’s space.  _ A spark of excitement ran through Duke as he thought about what else might be different. 

“Bedroom,” he said, his mouth dry. The significance of his choice hadn’t escaped him.

But maybe it wasn’t  _ that  _ significant, Duke reflected as he led the way to the bedroom. Back when Nathan had first moved things to the bedroom, it had been early days. They’d been  _ new.  _ Now they - well, they weren’t new. Whatever it was that they were, it was more comfortable, more established. The bedroom seemed like the right place. A natural progression that played into Duke’s hopes for  _ more.  _

That train of thought was abruptly taken from him when Nathan slammed him into the wall and kicked the door closed.

He barely had time to think  _ fuck that’s hot  _ before Nathan’s lips were pressed against his. Kissing him. Claiming him. Hot and possessive and demanding as he forced Duke’s lips apart and swept his tongue inside. He tasted of beer, underlined with coffee. He tasted of warmth.

Duke had no room to move. His head was pressed against the wall. All he could do was kiss back. He explored the ridges of Nathan’s mouth with his tongue, passionate and searching, and stifled a disappointed whimper when Nathan stopped kissing as suddenly as he’d started.

Nathan took a step back. “Strip,” he said, without an ounce of hesitation in his voice. He knew what he was doing. He knew exactly how to have an effect on Duke; exactly what note to put into his voice, how to hold his shoulders and set his jaw in an intoxicating mix of Nathan the no-nonsense cop and Nathan the vulnerable nerd. Nathan who cared.

It was a mix that left Duke feeling high; out of his mind on Nathan and what they were doing. Weak kneed and just a tiny bit shaky. Breathless. Pulse racing.

It was a mix that gave him the illusion of being out of control, yet knowing that Nathan would stop with just one word.

He stripped. Eagerly but slowly. Nathan was subtle but he definitely enjoyed it when Duke put on a little show for him. Nothing extravagant, no gyrating hips or coquettish undressing, just a careful positioning of his body to show himself at the best angle, a slow unbuttoning of his shirt, the hint of a tease as he slipped out of his jeans. Nathan would get a light flush of red on his cheeks and, once or twice, Duke was certain he’d heard a tiny little whine.

Tonight was no exception.

Nathan watched him with an intense focus that would be almost scary on someone else. His cheeks were pink, his eyes dark. He swallowed hard.

_ Yeah,  _ he was definitely enjoying this.

Duke tossed his jeans into the corner and stood upright again, his chin tilted in a silent question.  _ What next?  _

“Turn round, hands on the wall.” That note was in Nathan’s voice again. Calm, controlled, with a little hint of ‘do what I say or else’.

A slow ripple of excitement-fear ran through Duke as he obeyed. He didn’t hesitate. There was no question in his mind, no thought of arguing or bargaining or pleading with Nathan not to do whatever he was about to do. He wanted this.

Whatever  _ this  _ turned out to be tonight.

A familiar set of sounds. The jingle of a buckle, the swish of leather against denim, two soft footfalls.

A hand on his back, between his shoulder blades, steadying. Silently asking -  _ are you ready?  _

Duke nodded, braced his hands against the wall. He was ready.

Swish. Crack. Pain exploded across his ass. Duke took a deep, slightly shaky breath. On the few occasions they’d gotten into fist fights, Nathan had never pulled his punches. It was no exception with the belt. 

It was hard and it was fast and it was exactly what Duke needed.

_ Crack.  _ Another strike, then another and another. Duke stayed quiet. He always did. Barely a sound ever fell from his lips. Partly because he didn’t want to show any sign of weakness but mostly he didn’t want to cry out in case it made Nathan stop.

He really didn’t want Nathan to stop.

As the blows fell, he slipped into a headspace where speaking wasn’t an option. His world narrowed to nothing except warm, comforting pain. He found that escape in his mind, found the space where he could just  _ be,  _ where he could sink into the thoughts -  _ I deserve this. Bad. Dirty. Wrong. Just a pretty little thing -  _ and let them wash over him. He believed every one. Every negative thought that crept in, every unkind word that had ever been spoken to him. He believed it all.

He was being punished for everything he was.

It gave him a release. It gave him  _ freedom.  _ He didn’t have to convince himself that he wasn’t any of those things. Not when he was here. Not when he was leaning against his bedroom wall, voluntarily having his ass whipped. Doing this proved that he was exactly what everyone had ever told him. He no longer had to think about it. He could just believe it.

“That feel good?”

Nathan’s voice jerked Duke out of subspace with a wrench. He leaned his forehead against the wall, disoriented, and when the next strike landed, he arched away and cried out with a pain he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before.

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” Duke managed to choke out, though he was no longer certain of his answer.

The belt landed squarely across his ass again, drawing another cry from Duke’s lips.

“You think you deserve that, don’t you?”

Duke nodded.

Nathan hit him again.

White hot pain flared through Duke once more. Pain that was no longer comforting and pacifying but  _ torturous,  _ leaving every nerve in his body jangling.

“Words, Duke.”

“Yeah, I deserve it.” His voice was close to a whisper but Nathan heard him anyway.

Nathan stroked down his back with gentle fingers that were soft where they weren’t covered in gun calluses. He leaned into murmur into Duke’s ear. “You don’t.”

Duke shook his head and swallowed hard around the sudden lump in his throat.

“You don’t.”

Those words. Those two little words. They tore at him, flayed him open and gouged and twisted at the thin veneer of his defences. He tried, desperately tried to put his walls back up but with every brick he cemented into place, Nathan repeated those words. Over and over, until -

Until -

_ Fuck. _

Until he believed them.

Not completely, Duke was fairly sure his issues went deeper than to be fixed by a few kind words, but he believed  _ Nathan meant them  _ and if Nathan meant them, then maybe there was something to believe.

His whole body shook with the shivers that ran through him. He leaned his forehead against the wall, only to be pulled backwards again by strong hands on his shoulders.

"Don't. Don't hide," Nathan said, his breath hot on the back of Duke's neck.

One hand snaked around his throat. The other wrapped around his cock. Duke was held there. Against Nathan. Between his hands. Helpless - powerless - to resist. He couldn’t have safeworded out if he’d wanted to.

He didn’t want to.

The rough denim of Nathan’s jeans rubbed against Duke’s sore ass. He leaned into it, sought out the sharp-edged sensation, craved the almost-pain that came with it.

“That’s it. Lean on me.”

God. 

Fuck. 

_ Lean on me.  _

More words that dug deep into his soul. An emotional sensation that was echoed in his body as Nathan slowly, lightly, stroked his cock; a touch that served to inflame his senses rather than bringing any relief.

“You don’t deserve it,” Nathan whispered, again and again, each sentence punctuated with a single stroke of Duke’s cock.

_ Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.  _

He wanted to float away, to soak up the pleasure and drift but Nathan’s voice anchored him to reality. Every touch, every sensation was magnified. The slow movement of Nathan’s hand on his cock that sent wave after wave of pleasure rushing through him. The quiet words, soft but piercing. The warm caress of Nathan’s breath against his ear. 

Duke inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of Nathan that surrounded him. Enveloped him. He let out a ragged breath, inhaled once more, and started to plead.

“Please, Nate. Please, I can’t - please - please, just - god, Nate.”

He didn’t even know what he was begging for. To stop. For faster. For more. The words fell from his lips with no conscious thought behind them. He could have stayed like that forever, caught between Nathan’s hands, no other thought in his head but  _ Nathan  _ and the words he was still whispering in his ear.

He could have stayed like that forever but pleasure flooded through him with every stroke and, as powerless to stop it as he was powerless to do anything but  _ accept,  _ he came into Nathan’s hand.

Every ounce of tension left his body. Duke sagged, held up only by Nathan’s arms around him. Strong arms which steered him to the bed and didn’t let go until he’d sat down.

Nathan knelt at his feet, rested his hands lightly on Duke’s thighs and gazed up, close enough to Duke’s face that he couldn’t avoid him, he couldn’t  _ hide,  _ he just had to listen.

“You don’t deserve it.”

Duke shook his head. No. He couldn’t believe that. But oh gods how he wanted to.

“You don’t, Duke. You don’t deserve any of it. You enjoy it? Great, so do I. But you don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve to be hurt like this. I promise you, you don’t.”

Duke’s breath caught in his chest, emerged as a little, choked sob, and he shook his head again.

"Duke, you're ok. I've got you." Nathan's voice was impossibly soft, his hands warm on Duke's thighs.

_I've got you._ The words echoed round Duke's mind, crashing into _lean on me_ and _you don't deserve this,_ each sentence with its own importance but combined - combined, they were so _strong,_ so _powerful,_ so impossible to ignore. With another choked sob, Duke fell forward. His forehead bumped against Nathan's, his arms found their own way around Nathan's shoulders and, before he knew it, he was clinging to him.

"You're ok," Nathan murmured, rubbing his back. "Come on, let's lie down."

Duke allowed himself to be moved so they were lying beside each other on the bed and practically threw himself at Nathan as soon as they were settled. He curled himself into Nathan's arms, raw and vulnerable and lost.

He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. 

Duke Crocker didn’t cry.

He definitely didn’t cry in front of Nathan. Nathan who’d been  _ nice.  _ Not that Nathan being nice should come as a surprise, exactly, but it was  _ a lot.  _

Whatever Duke might believe of himself, Nathan believed he didn’t deserve to be hurt like that. Maybe that was something to think about. Not  _ now,  _ Duke was shelving that as  _ something to think about later,  _ but he wasn’t brushing it off and he thought that might be progress. Progress of  _ what,  _ he was less certain of. But that could wait ‘til later, too.

For now, he was just going to cuddle up to Nathan and soak up the warmth and the contact and the comfort.

Lying there with his head on Nathan’s chest and Nathan’s strong arms around him, he felt the safest and most protected that he’d ever been.

“You ok?” Nathan murmured after a few minutes.

“Yeah.” The response was automatic. Of course he was ok. He wasn’t in any imminent danger of dying, or in any sort of pain that would require treatment. He was fine.

“Sorry if that was too much. Just felt right.”

“No, it was fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

That was the honest answer. It would be a lot to process, a lot to take in, a lot to believe. But it was fine. Good, even. Though he probably wasn’t ready to tell Nathan that. That would be like admitting he’d needed to hear it and he definitely wasn’t going to do that.

But oh gods how he’d needed to hear it. Coming from Nathan, under those circumstances, was probably the only way he’d ever have accepted those soft words without laughing them off or turning it into something snarky. Hearing them when he was at his most vulnerable was almost helpful.

He nuzzled slightly into Nathan’s shirt, telling himself that he was allowed. In this moment, he was allowed to show and receive affection. It wouldn’t be denied him.

Nathan’s arms tightened around him and his warm hands stroked Duke’s back, calm and soothing.

“You’re ok, Duke. Just relax. I’ve got you.”

Those words again. They ripped through him with the same power they had a few minutes before, almost unbearable. 

Duke uncurled himself a little, but only to wrap his arms around Nathan, holding him tightly. His lips were less than an inch from Nathan’s. He angled his head, closed the distance and kissed him, gentle and soft.

He pulled back almost immediately, an apology ready but he didn’t get time to say it before Nathan leaned in and kissed him in exactly the same fashion, light and tender and over too soon.

“You need anything?” Nathan asked afterwards.

_ You. _ Duke didn’t say it. That would be entirely too much.

“Maybe one of the beers you brought?” he said instead. “And there’s a deck of cards and some poker chips in the drawer beside the fridge.”

There. That was better. That was familiar. If they didn’t get back to normal soon, Nathan might decide (or worry) that there was something wrong and then they might have to talk. Duke really didn’t want that.

“I’ll grab them. Want your clothes?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

“Ok.” Nathan brushed his fingers through Duke’s hair, gently - impossibly gently - and stood up to get the beer and cards, leaving Duke alone with his thoughts.

Thoughts which, inevitably, followed the same track. Nathan. Nathan and another comfortable show of domesticity. Nathan and his kind words. Nathan and the gentle kiss. Nathan who was showing that soft side of himself that Duke hadn’t seen since he’d landed himself in prison. Nathan had never behaved the same way towards him after that. 

Until now.

“Here,” Nathan said as he came back into the room. He passed Duke a beer, tossed the cards and poker chips onto the bed and sat down at the foot end, facing Duke.

“So, uh,” Duke said, then took a sip of his beer. “Before I spend the next hour kicking your ass at poker, is there - uh - is there anything you want me to do for you?”

Nathan looked blank for a moment as he worked out what Duke meant, then shook his head. “No, I’m good. Thanks. Wanted this to be for you. That ok?”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine.”

And it was. It  _ was  _ fine. Maybe it hadn’t been when they started this but things felt different now. Things  _ were  _ different. Nathan wanted to give him this and Duke would -  _ could -  _ accept it in a way he wouldn’t have been able to back then.

It was another step on the path to  _ more.  _ A  _ more _ that had a single word dancing on the tip of Duke’s tongue.

_ Stay. _

He didn’t say it. Asking Nathan to stay - to  _ sleep  _ here - was too much. It was too early, too soon. Maybe it shouldn’t have been; certainly if they’d been dating it wouldn’t have been. But they weren’t. They had an arrangement, nothing else. He didn’t even know if Nathan wanted to change anything. If Nathan wanted more from him. If Duke asked him to stay and he said no…

If he said no, it would be all over and Duke wanted to cling to that tiny ember of hope for a little longer.

So he leaned back against the headboard, took a gulp of his beer and grinned. “Are you dealing those cards or just staring at them?”

Nathan laughed, picked up the deck and started to deal.


	14. Nathan

There had been a moment, Nathan thought as he drove home, a split second, just before he’d left, where Duke had looked like he was about to say something. And then he hadn’t. Their goodbye hug had lasted a few seconds longer than usual too. When Duke pulled away (and he always pulled away first, even now), his expression was almost regretful. Perhaps for the thing he hadn’t said.

Whatever it might have been.

Nathan wasn’t going to let himself think about that. He had enough to think about.

Like the way Duke had instigated the post-scene hug for the first time. Soft and vulnerable, he’d curled himself into Nathan’s arms without an invitation. Normally he had to be asked, even persuaded. But not tonight.

Tonight he’d been  _ different.  _ Somehow it felt like progress. Like Nathan had done something  _ right.  _

He’d been worried about getting into Duke’s head like that. But Duke needed to know that he didn’t deserve to be hurt and it had been the only way Nathan had been able to come up with that Duke might actually listen to. 

Manipulative? Maybe. Probably. But it seemed to have  _ worked.  _ Duke had listened, anyway. Whether he’d really accepted or not was a different matter but he hadn’t fought against it; hadn’t argued about it.

It was a start.

A start to what, he wasn’t sure. He just knew he wanted Duke to hear that and it seemed like another step on the path to something deeper between them. Maybe something that wasn’t just sex.

As was the fishing trip they were planning. Maybe a fishing trip couldn’t be classed as a date but it was seeing each other outside of their arrangement.

Nathan couldn’t stop himself from  _ hoping.  _

Hoping that perhaps Duke saw this as something more. Hoping that perhaps Duke’s invitation to go fishing was his way of saying ‘this isn’t just sex’. Hoping that it would give them a chance to talk. Properly talk. He had a lot he needed to say to Duke, particularly after his chat with Laverne, and a trip out on the ocean with a few beers might be a relaxed enough setting for him to do that.

Their scenes didn’t have much space for that sort of talk. Especially tonight. He’d gotten quite a reaction from Duke, a glimpse behind the mask that he always wore. Duke had seemed ok when he left. Nathan had made sure of that, as he always did. Duke was as ok as he ever got, anyway - laughing and joking and playing cards. The mask had been firmly back in place.

But that lingering hug. Those unspoken words.

Nathan parked on the drive outside his little house and pulled his phone out of his pocket to text Duke.

_ Hey. Checking in again. You ok? _

The reply came back almost immediately.

_ All good. Thanks. See you Friday. _

There was a pause, during which Nathan worried about the blandness of that text. Then there was another beep. Another message. It was just a heart emoji but it was more than their usual back and forth to make arrangements and it gave Nathan a warm and fuzzy feeling that reached his toes. He sent back a heart emoji, told himself to stop being ridiculous, then sent a text to Dwight.

_ Can we swap shifts? Need next Tues off. Could cover your Thurs so you can spend the day with Lizzie before her ballet recital? _

Nathan was halfway to the door when his phone beeped with another message.

_ That an order, Chief? ;) Yeah, no problem, was going to ask if we could switch and Tues is fine with me. See you tomorrow. _

Nathan replied with a brief ‘thanks’, then dashed off another message to Duke.

_ Fishing trip is a go. Let me know time, what I can bring. _

Once again, the reply came back straight away.

_ Great. 11am? Beer. I’ll bring food and gear. _

Nathan grinned. Meeting in the morning would give them the whole day to spend together if they so wanted, and a few beers might loosen his tongue enough to get some meaningful words out. (Of course, more than a few beers might loosen his tongue enough to say something Duke wasn’t ready to hear but that was a risk he was prepared to take.) He sent back a quick text, locked up and went to bed, still grinning to himself.

*

And so, the following Tuesday morning, Nathan was sitting on a small dayboat that Duke had borrowed from someone. Hopefully legally, but Nathan wasn’t asking. They dangled their feet in the water and sipped beer as they studiously ignored the fishing rods Duke had brought. The fish weren’t biting anyway. The deck rolled lazily beneath them, rocked by small waves in a soporific motion. Between that and the warm sun on his back, Nathan could happily fall asleep, more relaxed than he’d been for a long time.

“We should swim,” Duke announced. He stood up and stretched to reveal a tiny strip of tanned skin at his waist.

Nathan tried unsuccessfully not to stare. He shouldn’t be so affected by a small patch of skin. He’d seen way more of Duke than just that. But there was something forbidden about the unintentional exposure that made it  _ exciting. _

He dragged his eyes away and cleared his throat. “Haven’t got my trunks.”

“Do you need them?”

_ Fair question.  _ He didn’t, really. They were out at sea, hadn’t seen another boat in the hour they’d been out here, and couldn’t be seen from the shore. And it wasn’t like they hadn’t seen each other naked before. 

That thought sent his mind back to the previous Friday and how Duke had looked, eyes closed and breathless, his ass red from the belt, his cock standing up, hard and proud.

_ Fuck.  _

Nope. Not thinking of that. Not  _ now.  _

Nathan swallowed and shook his head. “Guess not.”

Duke grinned, bright and relaxed, and was out of his clothes before Nathan had so much as stood up. “Last one in’s a loser,” he called out and dived into the water.

Nathan laughed and shook his head. He shed his clothes more slowly, hesitated for a split second before he took off his boxers, and jumped in after Duke.

“Loser,” Duke teased, swimming over to him. There was no malice in his tone, just a lighthearted comment with no heat behind it.

“Yup.”

“Beers at the Gull are on you later.”

“Ok- Wait, what?”

“You heard. Don’t be a cheapskate.”

Nathan ducked under the water to avoid answering. Was this a  _ date?  _ Duke hadn’t mentioned beers at the Gull, he’d only invited Nathan fishing. Was he just playing? Was it a spur of the moment thing? What, exactly,  _ was  _ this?

He emerged from the water and ran his hand across his face, buying himself an extra few seconds. “Cheapskate? If it was the other way around, you wouldn’t even be paying for the beers.”

“Yeah, because it’s my bar.”

“That was my point.”

“It wasn’t a very good one, was it?”

“Shut up.”

Duke smirked and flicked water up into Nathan’s face. “Make me.”

Nathan swam closer. He had his arm outstretched and fully intended to clap his hand across Duke’s mouth. Except he missed. What actually happened was that he curled his hand around the nape of Duke’s neck, pulled Duke closer, and kissed him.

Duke made a surprised sound and kissed him back with one arm wrapped around Nathan’s waist to stop them drifting apart as they treaded water. He tasted of beer and salt. His body was warm against Nathan’s, contrasting with the coolness of the water. 

Nathan was lost in the moment. He was still lost - almost dazed - when he finally pulled away. Still, he had to try to brazen it out. Couldn’t ruin a nice day out with an unplanned kiss.

He grinned and flicked water towards Duke. “That worked.”

“Yeah, no, that - that worked,” Duke said. He looked and sounded just a little bit bewildered.

Nathan couldn’t really blame him for that. “You said - uh - you said beers? Later?”

Duke nodded. “Yeah, no, I mean if you want to.”

“I’d like that.”

“Be like old times. Kind of.”

Yeah. It would. Except that instead of being carefree teenagers, now he was Chief and Duke owned the bar they’d be drinking in and there was a shit ton of history between them that they’d never actually addressed. 

Nathan’s heart galloped against his ribcage. Today was a sort of test. If he wanted  _ more -  _ and he did, he definitely did - today would be a good indication of what that might be like. Sure, they could spend a few hours in each others company when sex was involved, but what about when it  _ wasn’t?  _ When it was just them and a few beers and no expectations? Would they resort to snarking and come to blows? Or would they find something new and comfortable?

He swallowed down the fear of what might go wrong and nodded. “Like old times,” he echoed.

“Like this.” Duke grinned wickedly and tackled Nathan around the shoulders, sending them both under the water.

Nathan emerged spluttering. He’d barely drawn breath before Duke did it again. This time, he was expecting it and stayed below the water, swimming around Duke to grab hold of his legs and pull him under.

They both came up laughing. For a moment, Nathan could forget everything that had happened over the last twenty years. He swam over to Duke, fully intending to tackle him around the shoulders but, as had happened a few minutes before, what he intended wasn’t what happened. He ended up hugging Duke - clinging would be more accurate - and pressed tightly against him in a hug that was definitely not a ‘friends horseplaying in the water’ hug, or even a ‘this is fun, thanks’ hug.

It was an ‘I need you, I need this’ hug. One that he might have been embarrassed about, except Duke was hugging back in exactly the same way.

“Missed this,” Nathan mumbled. “Missed you.”

“Me too, Nate. It’s been too long.”

Nathan nodded which had the added effect that he was now nuzzling into Duke’s neck. “Need to talk to you.”

Duke tensed and pulled away. “What sort of talk? A ‘thanks Duke, this has been fun but I’ve met a nice girl to have nice vanilla sex with so it’s over’ sort of talk? Or a ‘Duke, you’re a fuck up, sort your life out’ sort of talk?”

“No!” Nathan almost shouted, sick at the thought that maybe Duke wouldn’t listen. “No! Just something I need to say.”

“Fine. Talk requires alcohol.” Duke swam back to the boat and nimbly got back on board.

_ Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.  _

Nathan followed him, his heart pounding once again.

By the time he was back on board the little boat, Duke was already dressed and had opened a beer for himself, though he looked like he wished it was something stronger. Nathan pulled on his clothes and helped himself to another beer.

“So. Talk.” Duke wasn’t even looking at him. He was staring out at the ocean with a carefully neutral expression on his face - one that was too careful to be genuine.

Nathan stood beside him and sipped his beer. He wished it was something stronger too.

“The anonymous tips I got, just after I joined the PD.”

Duke nodded.

“I know they were from you.”

Duke laughed bitterly. “It took you twenty years to work that out? I thought you were a detective.”

“I’m sorry, Duke.”

Duke just nodded again.

“I know that’s why you had to leave. I know it wasn’t a choice, that you had to go to save your life. Everything I said, after you came back. Everything I did. I was wrong and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. Just - just  _ don’t.”  _

Nathan’s heart hurt. Literally hurt. Duke wasn’t listening, wasn’t accepting his apology. He should have known there was too much between them for Duke to be able to forgive. He nodded and carried on sipping his beer. There was nothing else he could say.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, that you never understood, so seriously, just drop it.”

“It’s dropped, Duke.”

Duke nodded. He put his empty beer bottle down, picked up a fresh one and opened it. Tension showed in every muscle, in every movement, in the way he held his eyes.

Nathan wanted to touch him; to reach out and hug him and hold him and kiss him and offer whatever comfort Duke needed. He wanted to take away all the pain he’d caused. He wanted to make things right again.

He couldn’t do that, though. He couldn’t do any of it. He couldn’t take away Duke’s pain or put things right and any form of touch wouldn’t be welcome. He wasn’t even sure Duke wanted to be near him.

“We should catch some fish,” Duke said, standing up to get their rods. He baited each of them and passed one to Nathan, sat back down beside him, legs dangling over the side once again.

Nathan relaxed a little. At least Duke had said  _ we,  _ and he hadn’t suggested heading back. It was probably the best he could hope for.

*

The afternoon brought better fishing. The beers in the cooler were soon replaced by fish.

Duke suggested that beers at the Gull became dinner at the Gull, and said that he would cook up a couple of the fish into some sort of complicated sounding seafood medley with a lemon and garlic aioli.

Nathan relaxed further. Maybe he hadn’t fucked up too badly by apologising and bringing up bad memories.

The sun was just starting to set when they arrived at the Gull. Duke disappeared into the kitchen to put the fish into the fridge and returned a few minutes later.

“So,” he said, going behind the bar. “I promised you beers.”

Nathan chuckled. “You did.”

Duke grinned and slid two bottles across the bar to him. “Go grab a table, I’ll be over in a minute.”

Nathan chose a table halfway down the row of picture windows which overlooked the wooden terrace and gave a view out to the bay, and sat down, facing the bar.

As he looked on, Duke finished up behind the bar and came around, only to stop short as someone walked in. His expression shuttered. His lips were pressed tightly together and he went rigid, full of tension with none of his usual easy grace.

Nathan frowned. He watched closely as the man who had just come in approached Duke.

It took him perhaps longer than it should have done to recognise him. It was the asshole who had assaulted Duke. The one who should have been arrested, charged and prosecuted, except that Duke hadn’t filed an official report and had asked Nathan to turn a blind eye to it. 

Nathan bitterly regretted agreeing to that.

He watched. Just watched. He bit down his instincts to intervene because he didn’t want to overstep or interfere if Duke could handle this on his own.

The asshole stepped into Duke’s space. Duke didn’t move an inch; he stood there, toe to toe, close enough to kiss. To a casual observer, it might have looked exactly like that’s what they were about to do. 

Nathan knew better. Just like he knew from the set of Duke’s shoulders that he was seconds away from either lashing out or turning to run. It could go either way.

Perhaps the asshole knew that too. He used wide, open, aggressive movements to manoeuvre Duke back against the bar and stood close enough to him that Duke had no escape without resorting to force. It didn’t look like Duke was going to. Perhaps he wasn’t even capable of doing so.

Nathan couldn’t hear the words but Duke was growing smaller and smaller with every word. He shrank in on himself. Nathan’s heart broke. That wasn’t  _ Duke.  _ That wasn’t  _ his  _ Duke. His Duke was quick with words, easy and expressive with his movements. His Duke wasn’t cowed by  _ anybody.  _

As the asshole’s voice grew louder and more strident, Nathan caught a handful of words. Useless. Pathetic. Worthless.

Enough was enough. No one spoke to Duke like that. 

_ You did,  _ Nathan’s brain helpfully reminded him. He squashed down the pang of guilt and got to his feet quickly enough to send his chair flying backwards over the wooden floor with a loud scrape. He was beside Duke in five long strides.

“Everything ok here?”

“Everything’s fine,” the asshole snapped, barely glancing at Nathan. “We’re just having a nice little chat.”

“Doesn’t look like a nice little chat,” Nathan said, more calmly than he felt.

“Fuck you,” the asshole muttered and turned towards Nathan, fist raised.

Nathan didn’t move. He stood stock-still, one eyebrow raised.

Now -  _ now  _ the asshole saw him. The blood drained from his face and he took a step back, then another one. “Sorry, detective.”

“There a problem here?”

“No problem,” Duke said, taking a step forward now he was no longer pinned against the bar. “Pete was just leaving. Right?”

_ Pete.  _ That was his name. Nathan hadn’t bothered to find out before.

Pete smiled, too wide, too bright, too  _ fake.  _ “I was just gonna grab a beer, something to eat.”

Nathan slipped his arm protectively around Duke’s waist. “Were you?”

“Uh.” Pete’s fake smile dropped away and he glared at Duke. “Guess not. Shame, we could’ve had fun.”

“Not anymore,” Duke said, leaning in closer to Nathan.

Pete turned his glare onto Nathan instead. “Guess you’ve found out by now but he’s a lousy fuck.”

Nathan said nothing, just stared back at him and tilted his hip so his badge was more visible. A reminder.

It was enough. Pete spun on his heel and left without another word.

Duke laughed, soft and shaky and unamused. “My hero,” he said and turned to kiss the side of Nathan’s head before he pulled away. “Thanks. Let’s get those beers shall we?”

Nathan nodded and followed Duke over to the table. He sat down, exactly where he had before, facing the bar. His heart broke once again as Duke sat down with his back to the wall, eyes locked on the door. Tension still stiffened his shoulders; the lines on his face were deeper, his expression sharper, eyes warier. 

“You ok, Duke?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Even Duke’s voice was sharp. He was lying but it wasn’t an easy one.

“Just asking.”

“I’m good, Nate. Really. Gonna drink this, then I’ll go make us dinner.”

“Ok. Looking forward to it.” 

Pushing Duke wouldn’t work. Not now. Not here. Maybe if they’d been alone, Nathan would have pushed harder. Duke wasn’t ok, that much was obvious, but pushing would only make it worse. He needed to feel like he was in control, not backed into a corner. Better that Nathan dropped it.

It was a good choice. 

By the time Duke had finished his beer, he seemed more relaxed, less wary. By the time he came back from the kitchen with two plates piled high with seafood, he was even more relaxed, and by the time they’d had another beer and had finished eating, he seemed almost back to his usual self.

“Thanks, Duke, that was amazing,” Nathan said, leaning back to sip the last of his beer.

“No problem. Can’t beat fresh caught fish and it’s best kept simple like that.”

“Definitely. Not fussy.”

Duke smiled. “Exactly. I’m all about good, simple food.”

“You’re good at it.”

“Yeah,” Duke said, an absurdly proud look on his face.

Nathan laughed softly. “I mean it. You’re a great chef.”

“Thanks. Want another beer?”

“Uh, no, thanks. Got a school visit tomorrow and I need to get some paperwork done at the station before I head over there.”

Duke grinned. “Do the kids call you Detective Do Right?”

“Nope. Just you.” 

“Shame. I really think that could catch on.”

Nathan laughed softly and shook his head. “I should head out. Early start.”

Duke nodded. “Yeah, no, sure, I’ll walk you out.”

“What do I owe you for the beers and for - for dinner?”

“On me, Nate.”

Nathan nodded. He didn’t want to take advantage but something brittle in Duke’s tone suggested that arguing wouldn’t be a good idea. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” 

Nathan smiled and stood up. Duke was right beside him as they went out to the parking lot, walking closely enough that the backs of their hands brushed together. It was nice. Fishing, swimming, dinner, beers, it had all been  _ nice.  _ Meeting Pete-the-asshole notwithstanding.

Actually, in Nathan’s somewhat limited experience of dating, if this had in fact been a date, it had been pretty damn perfect. Which just reinforced that he wanted  _ more  _ with Duke. He wanted more than their Friday night arrangement. He wanted  _ this.  _ Chatting and eating together, spending time in each other’s company. For the first time since he’d developed (realised would be more accurate) those feelings for Duke, he felt like maybe it was possible.

He stopped walking. Caught hold of Duke’s hand to pull him closer, and leaned in, deliberately slowly, giving Duke time to move away or to say no or to give any indication that he didn’t want this.

Duke closed the small gap between them. He hovered there, his lips barely half an inch from Nathan’s. His breath flowed over Nathan’s skin, warm and gentle, almost a caress that sent a shiver down Nathan’s spine.

Nathan hesitated. Just a heartbeat. Then he kissed him, soft and gentle and chaste. Affectionate. A goodnight kiss after a date.

Because if it was a date, he should treat it like one. And if it wasn’t…

If it wasn’t, Duke wouldn’t be kissing him back. 

If it wasn’t, Duke’s hand wouldn’t still be linked with his.

If it wasn’t, Duke wouldn’t have made that quiet little sound, almost a purr, low in the back of his throat when Nathan kissed him.

If it wasn’t, Duke wouldn’t be smiling softly when he pulled back.

“G’night, Nate,” he said, the words sounding like an embrace, warm and close.

“Night, Duke.”

Duke smiled again and was gone, back into the bar.

Nathan stared after him for over a minute before he got into his truck to drive home. 

One single thought circled, around and around, in his mind. 

_ Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.  _

He had it bad.


	15. Nathan

The three days before their next scene might as well have been three weeks, the way they dragged by, hour after excruciating hour. All of Nathan’s waking thoughts were occupied by Duke. Memories. Kissing him. Hugging him in the water. His smile. The way his eyes lit up when he laughed. 

Amidst the memories were hopes. Daydreams. Telling Duke how he felt. Duke saying he felt it too. Soft declarations of love that turned into gentle kisses and tender lovemaking. Those ones left his cheeks pink and his cock hard as he thought about how Duke’s hands would feel on him, what it would be like to be on the receiving end of Duke’s attention. 

He knew what it was like to kiss Duke. And how Duke’s lips felt when they were wrapped around his cock. He knew what it was like to dominate Duke and take what he wanted.

But what would it be like if they were truly  _ together?  _ Could they be  _ intimate  _ in a different way? Could they have a partnership?

He dreamed of lazy mornings in bed, listening to the rain fall outside. Of laughing as they made sweet love, lost in each other's touches. Of making pancakes together, dancing around the kitchen in each other's arms, and singing along to the radio as they cooked.

He dreamed of a future.

They’d arranged for their Friday night scene to be at Nathan’s place, like usual. Which was fine, but Nathan couldn’t stop himself from worrying that he’d fucked up when they’d been on the Rouge, that it had been too much, something Duke hadn’t wanted. He didn’t tell Duke that, of course. He kept it inside, squashed down like a coiled spring.

So when Duke text him at half past six on Friday night to say  _ my place,  _ Nathan was both surprised and delighted.

Surprised, because Duke rarely changed plans once they were made. He was reliable that way. Delighted because he’d been invited back to Duke’s space which felt like a step towards the future he’d been having starry eyed daydreams about.

But as he quickly showered and changed, he moved from surprised and delighted to worried. Alarm bells were ringing because Duke  _ didn’t change plans.  _ He just didn’t. In all the years that they’d been friends - even in the intervening years when he’d spent more time arresting Duke than meeting him for beers and poker - Duke had never changed plans or been so much as five minutes late to meet him. It seemed to be a point of pride with him. 

By the time he knocked on the hatch of the Rouge at two minutes before seven, the alarm bells were clanging around Nathan’s head in a cacophony of panic which only grew louder when Duke opened the door. 

His eyes were dark and heavy and unfocused. A sharp smell of alcohol oozed from his every pore and a bottle of whiskey dangled loosely from his fingers.

Nathan lurched forwards to catch it when Duke swayed and lost his grip on the bottle.

He giggled. An odd, almost eerie, sound from Duke who laughed easily but never giggled. “Oops,” he said, launching himself at Nathan. He tried to kiss him but missed by a mile and half fell, half slumped onto the bench. He stayed there, elbows on the dining table, circling his left hand as though he was thinking about something. “You,” he said after a moment, pointing at Nathan. “You - no.” He sighed. “I was gonna say something but it’s gone.”

Nathan nodded and set the bottle of whiskey down. 

Duke immediately picked it up and took a long swig straight from the bottle.

“You’re drunk,” Nathan said, trying very hard not to sound judgemental. He wasn’t judging, he was worried, but it had been pointed out to him on more than one occasion that his worried voice was very much the same as his judgy voice.

“Well, detective, it’s nice to see your observation skills aren’t lacking.” Duke took another swig of whiskey. “Yes, Nathan, as you so cleverly pointed out, I am - in fact - drunk. Very drunk.”

_ Fuck.  _ Snarking. A return to snarking wasn’t a good sign. He needed to defuse this before it moved from vaguely good natured snarking (actually Nathan wasn’t sure it  _ was  _ good natured snarking, Duke was slurring his words enough that he couldn’t quite get a read on his tone of voice) into bitter, hurtful snarking.

He fetched a glass from the kitchen, sat down opposite Duke and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

Duke’s eyes didn’t leave him. Even while he was in the kitchen, his back to Duke, Nathan could feel them boring into his back, hard and wary; almost feral. 

He didn’t waste any time in knocking back his drink and pouring himself another. 

Duke seemed to relax a little after that, though he did grab the bottle back before Nathan could put it down on the table and cuddled it as if it was his only comfort. His only friend. He took another swig from the bottle and stood up, wobbling slightly. “Where d’you want me, then?”

“What?”

Duke started to pull off his tank top. “Here? Bedroom?”

“Neither.”

“What?” he said, muffled by the tank that was now tangled around his arms and head. 

Nathan sighed and stood up. He helped Duke disentangle himself so that he was wearing his tank top as a tank top and not as a hat-slash-mask, and gave Duke a shove so that he sat back down. “Neither,” he repeated. 

Duke slumped over the table morosely. “You don’t want me.”

“Not that.”

“No? Seems clear to me.”

“You’re  _ drunk,  _ Duke. Not gonna take advantage of you.”

“How’s that taking advantage? It’s what we do, isn’t it? We have an arrangement.”

Nathan nodded slowly. “Do I need to explain consent to you here?”

Duke looked slightly baffled. “No, I know what consent is and I’m consenting.”

“You can’t, you’re drunk. It’s not informed consent.”

“Bullshit. I’m not  _ that  _ drunk.”

“Don’t care. You’re drunk. Not happening.”

“Fine. Go, then.”

Nathan fixed a firmly neutral expression on his face to hide how much those words hurt. “Do you want me to leave?”

Duke took two more swallows of whiskey before he answered. “Don’t care either way but not much point in you staying if we’re not fucking.”

_ Ouch.  _

Had Nathan been wrong to think there might be something here, or was Duke deliberately trying to push him away? The only way to find out was to dig his heels in and not let himself be pushed. 

“Thought we were past this, Duke.”

“Past what?”

“This. The bullshit.”

“Bull -  _ bullshit?!”  _ Duke lifted his head and glared at Nathan.

“Yes, bullshit. Not going anywhere. Thought that would be obvious by now.”

Duke stared back at the table again. “Fine. Stay, then. Get another bottle out.”

Nathan nodded. He fetched another glass and a fresh bottle of whiskey from the cabinet - a cheap one. Duke was drunk enough that he wouldn’t taste it and there was no point wasting good whiskey on a binge. He should probably stop him from drinking. What Duke needed was a friend. Company. Comfort that didn’t come from a bottle. But he wouldn’t accept it if Nathan didn’t offer something in return.

So whiskey it was.

He sat back down and poured them each a glass, then put the bottle on the table, halfway in between them.

“What’s going on, Duke?”

“What do you mean?”

Nathan tapped the bottle. 

“Just enjoying a drink.”

“Seems more than that.”

“It’s not.”

“Right,” Nathan said, and sighed. 

He didn’t believe Duke. There were two options here. Let the lie slip past unmentioned, sit and drink and be as much of a friend as Duke would let him be. Or push. Risk Duke throwing him out, risk an argument, another fight. Risk losing everything they had. Risk losing any hope of  _ more.  _

Duke stared at the table, twisting the glass in his fingers. His expression shifted from shuttered and closed off, to raw and vulnerable and broken, then back again.

That made Nathan’s decision for him. Duke needed him. He didn’t need Nathan to be scared and play it safe. Whatever was going on, he needed to let it out, otherwise he’d keep drinking and drinking, bottling it up inside until he imploded from the pressure. 

“Duke?”

“Nathan?”

“Don’t do this.”

“What?”

_ “This.  _ Shutting me out.”

Duke glared at him. Or tried to, it looked like his eyes were refusing to focus properly.

Nathan slid the bottle of whiskey out of his reach, only for Duke to immediately grab it back. 

“I was drinking that,” he snapped.

“Talk to me instead.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Duke tilted the bottle to pour himself a drink but he’d neglected to remove the cap and nothing came out. He stared at it for a moment, confused, then realised his mistake, unscrewed it and splashed some into his glass.

“Try me.”

“Why? You always had it so fucking easy, what the fuck makes you think you can understand?”

Nathan nodded. He wasn’t sure he’d class his life as  _ easy.  _ His biological father had been abusive (a fact for which Nathan was grateful he’d been too young to remember) and, not long after he and his mom had moved in with the Chief, had murdered a whole family. Then he’d lost his mom when he was ten years old and had been brought up by his adoptive father in an increasingly strained relationship, compounded by the Chief’s insistence that Nathan put aside his dreams of becoming a doctor and follow in his footsteps as a cop instead.

His life hadn’t been easy but now wasn’t the right time to point out that he’d had it rough, too.

“Maybe I can’t, but I’d like to try.”

Duke took a sip of whiskey. He seemed to have slowed down a little which was something. “Don’t know where to start.”

“Start with why you’re drinking.”

“Because…” Duke waved his hand around, apparently having forgotten that he was holding his glass. Whiskey sloshed onto the table. He mopped it up with his sleeve. “Because  _ everything.”  _

Nathan pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped up the rest of the spill. “Everything’s a vague answer.”

Duke shrugged.

“Got anything to do with the other day?”

“What do you mean?” Duke said, surprisingly sharp considering how much he’d drunk.

“The other day. The asshole. Pete? That got anything to do with it?”

“They don’t call you  _ detective  _ for nothing, do they?”

“Chief.”

“Fine. They don’t call you  _ Chief  _ for nothing, do they?”

“Nope.” Nathan smirked.

“Is there anything I can say that’ll make you drop the subject?”

“Nope.”

Duke sighed. “Fine. Yes, he’s got something to do with it.”

Good. Progress. Now Nathan just had to keep Duke talking and be careful not to say anything that would make him clam up again. “Tell me,” he encouraged.

“Tell you  _ what,  _ Nathan?” Duke stood up and started to pace, weaving his way from the kitchen to the hatch and back again, still clutching the bottle of whiskey in his hand. “Tell you that he backed me into a corner and made me feel  _ this small-”  _ he held his free hand up, thumb and finger extended an inch apart “-and I was right fucking back there.”

“Back where, Duke? That night?” Nathan asked quietly.

“No,” Duke snapped. “No. You think I’d be drinking like this over one fucking night?”

“I don’t know.”  _ Yes. You were scared of him afterwards, holed up in here with a gun in your hand. I saw the way you reacted to him the other day. So yes, I think you’d be drinking like this over one night. _

“You don’t know  _ anything.  _ You never understood  _ anything.”  _

Nathan nodded. That was probably true. He’d never tried particularly hard to understand Duke, he’d just judged and distanced himself so he had enough plausible deniability when Duke got himself into trouble. “You’re right. I don’t. But I want to.”

Duke faltered in his steps, looked at Nathan for over a minute, silently watching him as though he was trying to make his mind up whether to talk or whether to keep quiet. “Fine,” he said eventually and sat back down. “Fine. You remember all those bruises? When I was a kid, I mean? You asked me about them and I said I’d fallen out of a tree? And the next time, I told you I tripped? And I fell down the stairs? And I walked into a door?”

Nathan nodded, feeling sick. As an adult - as a  _ cop -  _ it was obvious. Back then, it hadn’t been, he’d taken Duke’s word for it and he shouldn’t have done. He should have helped. Told his father. A teacher. Even his mom.  _ Something.  _

“My dear old dad.” Confirmation of what Nathan had just put together for himself. “He’d get drunk, send me down to the liquor store for booze and smokes. If I was too slow, or came back with the wrong stuff because old man Jeremiah didn’t have what he wanted, he’d start in with his fists. Or his belt. Sometimes he’d be careful to keep the bruises where no one would see. More often than not, he was too out of it to care.”

Nathan took a long sip of his whiskey, the glass shaking in his hand.

“I watched him die. Did you know that? We were on a fishing trip, he was drunk - of course he was drunk, he was always drunk - went overboard. I was eight years old, couldn’t help him, couldn’t even row myself back to shore. I was out there for two days before his body washed up and the Coastguard came looking for me.”

“Jesus, Duke.” Nathan poured himself another drink. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We were kids, Nate, we didn’t talk about that stuff. I told you he died, that seemed to be enough.”

It had been, back then. Now Nathan wondered how he’d never known. It was a small town. People talked. Even the kids picked up on the gossip. Something like that seemed like it would cause more of a stir, like it had when Max Hansen had killed that family - that had been talked about around town, in hushed voices that the adults had thought the kids wouldn’t hear - but Nathan couldn’t remember anything other than  _ Duke’s father died.  _ That was it. 

“What happened to you after that?”

“Coast Guard took me in, delivered me to Family Services. Stayed at the McShaw’s for a few days while they found me a place in a group home. Went there for a month while the state tried to have me declared an orphan because they couldn’t find my mom. She turned up the day before the paperwork was ready.”

“Things were better after that?” Nathan wasn’t even sure why he asked that. They hadn’t been. That much was clear.

“You’d think so but no. She turned my dad’s place into a flophouse until Protective Services shut it down. I was her meal ticket. When it was shut down, she left, only turned up to collect the welfare checks which left me nothing left for bills so I learned to manage on my own.”

“Fuck,” Nathan muttered. He hadn’t had any idea what Duke’s life was like. He’d always seemed like such a free spirit - a bit of a troublemaker, that was for sure, but nothing  _ harmful.  _ He’d just seemed like your average kid with an attitude.

“Yeah. Fuck. I stole food, sold bootleg liquor under the bleachers to the other juvenile delinquents in school to make rent. From there, it was just a hop, skip and a jump to selling stuff on the docks.”

“Stuff?”

“Drugs. Weed, mostly, back then. Myself.”

“Yourself?”

“Trust me, when you haven’t eaten for two days, sucking cock doesn’t seem like a bad way to earn some money.”

Nathan nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His stomach was down around his ankles, his throat tight. He wanted to hug Duke and never let him go. Hold him and stroke his back until some of his pain went away. Duke wouldn’t accept that, though, so he shuffled around the bench until he was sitting beside Duke, close enough that their elbows brushed.

Duke leaned a little closer and carried on. “When I was eighteen, the welfare checks stopped coming and so did mom. Then I had  _ nothing.  _ Couldn’t even keep a roof over my head so I slept rough, abandoned warehouses, fishing huts. Sometimes I’d sneak into the library, or the high school boiler room, crash there. Wasn’t a long term option, though, so I did anything I could to make money - drugs, liquor, selling stolen goods, you name it, I did it.”

_ Fuck.  _ How the  _ fuck  _ hadn’t he known that Duke hadn’t even had a roof over his head? They’d been friends, then. It seemed like the sort of thing a friend should have known. But somehow he hadn’t. He hadn’t asked the right questions, hadn’t looked beyond Duke’s facade of  _ everything’s fine.  _ Now he wished he had.

“Was that the last time you saw her?” he asked after a moment. 

“Nope.” Duke popped the ‘p’ sound. “Just once more. A few years ago, I was doing a drop in Boston. And I walked around this corner...and there she was. Wanted to score some dope off me but she didn’t have any money. And she said she’d be happy to pay me some other way. She didn’t even recognise me.”

Nathan’s heart hurt. Literally hurt. “I’m so sorry, Duke.”

Duke nodded. “Prison didn’t seem so bad after all that. It was warm. Had a bed every night. Three meals a day.”

“You weren’t scared?” Prison could be a rough place, Nathan knew that. Gangs, violence, drugs. And Duke had still been a kid when he went in, just nineteen. Nathan had been away at college, hadn’t known Duke was in prison until he’d come home for Christmas and his father had told him - with a distinct air of delight - that he’d finally nailed the Crocker kid. Duke had ended up serving almost a year for selling weed to an undercover cop on the docks. It had been a harsh sentence for the first offence he’d been convicted of, handed down by Judge Boone.

“No more than I was when I was out.”

“Things were that bad?”

“Yeah. All changed when I got this old girl, though.” Duke patted the wall of the Rouge affectionately.

“Card game, wasn’t it?” Nathan still remembered coming back from college and Duke bouncing up to him to tell him the story of how he’d won a cargo ship in a game of poker with Sam McGraw.

“Yeah. Thought I could turn things around, go legit, get a proper import-export business going. But this town…"

Nathan nodded.  _ This town.  _ He’d been just as bad as the rest of them.

"They never let me forget, y'know? I've always been Simon Crocker's kid, just another lowlife Crocker, destined for a life of crime and an early death. So when I tried to get a regular job, or tried to start up my own business, I got laughed out of the place. No one would give me the time of day. What was I supposed to do, Nate?"

"Nothing. You never stood a chance, Duke. You did what you had to do. I'm sorry I never understood that before."

Duke nodded and took another drink.

Nathan let the silence build, lost in his thoughts. He’d been wrong. So fucking wrong. Duke wasn’t just another criminal. He was a survivor. He’d been left in an impossible situation and the very people who should have helped him, let him sink.

“I’m proud of you, Duke. The way you turned things around,” he said.

“Don’t,” Duke said quietly. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“All the stuff I’ve done, I don’t deserve anyone’s pride. I’m as bad as everyone says I am.”

“But you’re not doing that stuff anymore. You changed.”

“I didn’t change. I made enough money running drugs and weapons to give myself the chance that no one else would give me.”

“And you used it to buy a legit business.”

“Because I’d have ended up dead if I didn’t. Probably still will. People like that, they don’t let you walk away.”

“That why you’ve got more weapons stashed here than the HPD armoury?”

Duke nodded. “I know too much. They’ll come after me.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” Nathan said quietly.

“Why do you even care, Nate?”

“I never stopped caring.” 

“Seemed like it.”

That was a fair point. 

All through school, they’d been close. Duke had been his best friend - sometimes his only friend, being president of the AV club won him more bullies than it had friends, but Duke had been the constant, the one who always said  _ I’ve got your back. _

Which is why, when Duke left, when he’d betrayed Nathan’s trust, it had hurt so damn much. If only he’d known  _ why  _ Duke had left. Maybe then he’d have been more understanding when he came back.

“Know I said it the other day, but the tips…”

“What about them?”

“Thank you. For doing that. For taking that risk. Thank you.”

Duke nodded. “I wanted to help. Knew you were desperate to get in your dad’s good books and that was all I could do.”

“It helped.”

“Good.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t work it out sooner. I’m sorry I was such a dick when you came back.”

The words didn’t seem to be enough.  _ Nothing  _ would be enough to make up for how Nathan had treated Duke when he got back. If only he could go back in time, put things right.

But he couldn’t. Obviously. It was a stupid, childish thought and this moment, right here, right now, was no time for childish stupidity. He brought his hand up, lightly touched Duke’s jaw, encouraging him to meet his eyes.

Duke did so, albeit reluctantly, like he was scared of what he might see there.

Nathan softened his gaze, well aware that sometimes intensity could be misinterpreted as anger. “I’m sorry, Duke,” he said quietly.

“Don’t,” Duke whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Nathan repeated.

Duke closed his eyes and pulled his head away. A split second later, he turned back and, before Nathan could stop him, kissed him. It was hard and demanding. Very clearly a  _ shut up  _ kiss.

Nathan kissed back, but just briefly. “No,” he said softly. “Not tonight. Not like this.”

A little quiet sound came from Duke’s throat. Maybe a stifled sob, maybe a protest, Nathan wasn’t sure.

“Please, Nate,” he said, barely audible. “Please punish me. I deserve it.”

“No.” Nathan kept his voice as low as Duke’s. “No you don’t, and no I won’t.”

“I do.”

“You don’t, Duke. You don’t deserve to be punished. Not by anyone and definitely not by me.”

“So it’s over? You don’t want me anymore?”

“That’s not what I said. I’m saying not tonight. Not like this.”

Duke nodded and deflated, slumped over the table, clutching his glass.

Nathan rested his hand on Duke’s back, high up between his shoulder blades. “You’re the bravest person I know, Duke, and you don’t deserve to be punished. You don’t deserve the amount of pain you give yourself.”

Duke nodded again and took another drink.

Nathan patted his back, hating how much he felt like his father. That was always the Chief’s go-to method of comfort. When he offered any at all. He knew from bitter experience that it wasn’t enough.

It felt like nothing would be enough.

Words danced on the tip of his tongue.  _ I love you. I care. Let me help you.  _

He didn’t say them. He couldn’t say them. Not now. One day, maybe, but not now. Not like this.

“Guess all this is why you were so insistent we help Henry,” he said.

“That and it was the right thing to do.”

“That’s what I lo- like about you, Duke. You always do the right thing.”

Duke snorted. “Right. I always do the right thing. I con people, I run drugs and weapons and liquor, but I always do the right thing. I’m selfish, Nate. I only look out for myself.”

Nathan didn’t believe that for a minute. He had, once. Now he knew better. 

Duke was anything but selfish. It was all part of the armour he wore. He wanted people to believe he was selfish so that when they walked away, they wouldn’t know how badly they hurt him. He was isolated, alone, abandoned by everyone who should have cared about him.

Including Nathan.

He didn’t deserve Duke’s forgiveness. Duke’s trust.

But somehow he had it anyway. Trust, at least. Nathan wasn’t so sure that Duke had ever forgiven him. But trust, yeah, he had that. Maybe he’d never really lost it. Maybe everything he’d done when they were kids had been enough. He had, after all, been Duke’s emergency contact. The one person Duke trusted enough to be there for him if everything went to shit.

“Not going anywhere, Duke,” Nathan said quietly. If nothing else, he could be the one person who didn’t walk away. He’d done that too many times. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

“Not like I did, huh, Nate?”

“You came back.”

“I came back.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you come back? You said yourself that this town never gave you a chance. So why?”

Duke shrugged. “Guess I missed my friends.”

_ Ouch.  _ Another knife to Nathan’s heart. Duke hadn’t had many friends - plenty of acquaintances but very few friends. The McShaws. Him. That was it.

He felt sick. Duke had come back because of him. He’d come back to this town where everyone hated him and no one would ever give him a chance. He’d come back to somewhere his life was very much at risk. He’d given up his chance of being free and he’d come back because of Nathan.

In return, he’d treated Duke like crap. He’d yelled at him. Punched him. Arrested him. He’d left Duke in no doubt just how much he hated him and just how worthless Nathan thought he was. He had, in a very tangible way, contributed to Duke’s lack of self esteem. It wasn’t all down to him, but he’d been a big part of it and he needed to own that part. He’d been Duke’s friend. One of the few people Duke had trusted and wanted to spend time with. He’d thought Duke leaving had been a betrayal but what Nathan had done to him was far, far worse.

“Bill and Geoff always had your back, didn’t they?” he said after a moment. He couldn’t let himself sink into guilt and bitter self recrimination. Better to focus on something more positive.

Duke nodded. “Called ourselves the Second Chancers.”

“Always wondered why Bill called the place that after his parents passed.”

“Camping trip, we were hungry. Bill shot a duck with a pellet gun, went to finish it off with a knife but it got away. Geoff said we should let it go because it had earned a second chance.”

Nathan smiled. “Makes sense.”

“They gave me the second chance I needed. Geoff didn’t want to run the bistro, Bill talked him into selling it to me cheap. Couldn’t have afforded it otherwise.”

“How are things for you now? Financially?”

“Want to see my bank statements?”

“No. Just a question.”

“I have enough put by.”

Nathan nodded. That was all the answer he was going to get, there was no point pushing any further. He couldn’t ask the question he really wanted an answer to.  _ What if everything goes wrong? What will you do? Will you leave me again?  _ Maybe one day there would be a right time to ask that question but tonight wasn’t it. 

He squeezed Duke’s thigh under the table. “C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

Duke turned to him and grinned. “Finally. That’s what I’ve been saying we should do all night.”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “No, idiot. For sleeping.”

“Sleep - sleeping?”

“Yeah. I’ve had too much to drink to drive home.”

Duke glanced at the couch, then back at Nathan, and nodded. “Ok. Bed.”

Nathan nudged him. “C’mon then.”

Duke nodded and stood up, started walking towards the bedroom. He was weaving as he went but he wasn’t crashing into any walls so he probably wasn’t in any danger of alcohol poisoning. “I should warn you,” he called back over his shoulder, “I sleep naked.”

“Didn’t expect anything else,” Nathan called back. 

He paused to double lock the hatch. Duke hadn’t done it when he arrived and didn’t seem to have even thought about it before he went to bed. Nathan wasn’t sure if that was a reflection of Duke’s current mindset and how low he’d sunk. Or because he was just  _ that drunk.  _ Or whether it was a tacit statement of trust - either that he trusted Nathan to keep him safe, or he trusted Nathan to remember. 

It didn’t matter. It was done. That was all that mattered.

By the time he got into the bedroom, Duke was already under the covers. His clothes littered the floor - another reflection of his mindset. Duke’s home was always  _ tidy.  _ Immaculate, in fact. Far tidier than Nathan’s little house where he regularly had to pick up socks that he’d taken off and forgotten about. If Duke was drunk enough, or low enough, not to care about picking up his discarded clothing, it really wasn’t a good sign.

Neither was the fact that he seemed to have curled up into a ball, the covers pulled to his chin. He looked small and lost, nothing like the snarky, mouthy, pushy Duke that Nathan knew and loved.

Nathan wasted no time in stripping down to his boxers and climbing into the bed beside Duke, only for his heart to break for what felt like the millionth time that evening when Duke tensed and curled himself up tighter.

“Remember when we used to do this when we were kids?”

Duke uncurled himself a little and nodded.

“Mom used to let you stay over sometimes and then...after...you used to sneak into my bedroom.”

“Climbed up the drainpipe and through the window.”

Nathan laughed softly. “Always worried you’d fall or the Chief would find out.”

“He never did though.”

“Nope. Think he suspected once or twice.”

“You never told me.”

“I didn’t want you to stop,” Nathan said quietly.

“I wouldn’t have.”

Nathan nodded. Now that he knew what Duke had been through, he wished he’d asked Duke to come over more often. It had probably been the only time he had a warm bed for the night. Instead, Nathan had pushed him away. Left him to suffer. Not knowing wasn’t an excuse. He should have been better.

He could be better now.

He opened his arms and patted his chest. “C’m’ere.”

“What?”

“Come here,” Nathan repeated. 

“Why?”

“We’re cuddling.”

“We’re  _ what,  _ now?”

“Cuddling. You’ve heard of it, right?”

“You want to cuddle me?”

“Yes,” Nathan said firmly.

Duke hesitated a second longer, then crumbled, shaking, into Nathan’s arms. Why he was shaking, Nathan wasn’t sure. Holding back emotions, maybe. Or perhaps he was so uncomfortable with being shown affection that adrenaline was coursing through his body. Either way, it didn’t really matter. All he could do was hold Duke close while he trembled like an autumn leaf caught in a Maine Nor’easter.

“Everyone leaves me, Nate,” Duke mumbled. “They all leave me.”

“It’s ok, Duke,” Nathan murmured back. “It’s ok. I’m not going anywhere.”

He’d barely finished speaking before Duke relaxed into him, and draped his free arm across Nathan’s waist. He hadn’t fallen asleep so much as he’d passed out.

Nathan held him and waited until Duke was snoring softly before he pressed a kiss to Duke’s forehead, lingering for a moment. “I love you,” he whispered. He hated that he could only say it while Duke was asleep but it was safer that way.

Still, Duke made a quiet sound and nuzzled closer so maybe the words filtered through to his sleep.

Sleep wasn’t so easy for Nathan. He was a whole bundle of emotions as he ran through everything Duke had told. Guilt. Anger. More guilt.

Everything Duke had been through and Nathan hadn’t had a clue. He might be the person Duke trusted most, but Duke still hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him. To ask him for help.

He should have known. He should have seen the signs. Duke had been good at hiding things, sure, but Nathan had been his  _ best friend.  _ How had he been so blind to it? He tried to rationalise it. He’d just been a kid, too. Now that he was looking back on it with adult eyes - cops eyes, at that - it was obvious, but he couldn’t have been expected to know what was going on.

Everyone else, though…

Everyone else should have known. His father, for one. The Chief had arrested Duke ten times before he even turned fifteen. How hadn’t  _ he  _ known? Had he just turned his back and left Duke to suffer? What about the teachers? Surely they would have noticed. Protective services? They knew about Duke, they must have checked up on him, otherwise the flophouse would never have been shut down, but why didn’t they do more?

Haven failed Duke.

That was the bald truth of it. This town would rather let a kid go hungry and homeless and pretend it wasn’t happening than help a Crocker.

Nathan felt sick. He’d sworn to protect this town but right now he wanted to burn it down. Take Duke away from here where he could love him and keep him safe and put everything right and burn this fucking town to the ground.

Except nothing could put right what had happened to Duke. His whole life had been stolen away. Every opportunity he should have had was denied him. School. College. A career that didn’t involve working with people who wanted to kill him.

The fact that he’d somehow finished high school and eventually found his way into an industry that he loved was testament to how much of a survivor he was.

If only everyone could see that.

Especially the asshole.  _ Pete.  _ Nathan could barely bring himself to think of his name. This was his fault. Not all of it, not Duke’s past, not what had happened to him, but the mess Duke had been in tonight, full of memories and hurt, that was the asshole’s fault. He’d been the trigger for this. He hadn’t been able to accept losing his fuck buddy so he made Duke feel small. Backed him into a corner and verbally abused him; reinforced everything that Duke believed about himself.

He hid it well. Even tonight, talking through everything, Duke had cleverly talked  _ around  _ how he felt. He’d stuck to facts, explanations. He’d been open and honest and communicative, thanks to the whiskey, but he hadn’t once said how he  _ felt.  _ He didn’t have to. How Duke felt about himself had become glaringly obvious over the past year.

Nathan had thought that he’d been feeling  _ better.  _ More valuable. More worthy of affection, comfort,  _ care.  _ He’d seemed to be accepting that. Until tonight.

And that - that was the asshole’s fault.

Which, in turn, was Nathan’s fault. The guy shouldn’t have been out on the streets after what he did to Duke last year. He should have been arrested and prosecuted. Nathan should never have let that slide.

Maybe he couldn’t fix the past, but he could fix  _ that.  _

It wouldn’t assuage his guilt over how he’d treated Duke all those years ago, but it was the one thing he could do to help Duke  _ now.  _

Get rid of Pete fucking Walker.

Tomorrow, Nathan would pull his file, see if there were any other complaints, any history there that he could use, and he would find a way to nail him and send him to prison.

It was the only thing he could do.


	16. Duke

Duke fought against wakefulness. He preferred the blissful oblivion of sleep over cold hard reality.

_ Blissful.  _

Wrapped in a warm, comforting cocoon. Bathed in a golden light. Safe and protected.

It was a good dream. One of the better ones. On some mornings, waking up was a relief; an escape from the nightmares that held him hostage. Not this morning. This morning he’d be perfectly content to keep having that dream. He tried to slip back into it but cracks appeared around the edges, jarring him into consciousness with long fingers that held his head in a vice like grip.

Great.

This was going to be the hangover from hell.

He groaned and opened his eyes, only to find himself face to chest with someone who was unmistakably Nathan. The events of the previous night came crashing back into him. What he’d said. How he’d acted. 

Yeah, blissful oblivion was definitely better than the cold hard reality he now faced.

He groaned again, and flopped onto his back - or tried to, Nathan’s arms were still around him, still holding him, surprisingly strong considering Nathan was asl-

_ Fuck.  _

Nathan wasn’t asleep.

“Hey,” he murmured, which  _ proved  _ he wasn’t asleep. If he was talking, he wasn’t asleep.

Duke’s brain scrambled to catch up. His thoughts moved through the hangover haze more slowly than a fly through treacle.

_ Nathan. Awake. Morning. Cuddling. All night.  _

“You stayed,” Duke said thickly and cleared his throat. “You stayed,” he said again, more clearly this time.

“Yeah,” Nathan said, as though it should have been obvious.

Maybe it should have been, given their history, the amount of times they’d spent the night together when they’d been kids, but that was then and this was now and it was nothing like it had been back then.

They were fucking, for one thing. And how desperately,  _ desperately  _ he wanted it to be more than just that but he couldn’t let himself hope on the basis that Nathan had stayed - he’d only stayed because it was the right thing to do, Duke knew that, it had nothing to do with  _ him  _ and everything to do with Nathan’s need to be A Good Person. For another thing, there was a proverbial shit ton of history between them that there hadn’t been back then.  _ Maybe  _ what had been said last night, everything he’d told Nathan and Nathan’s apologies, had gone some way to putting right a lot of what had happened but not all of it.

In fact, all he’d really achieved was showing Nathan exactly what a fuck up he was so now there really wasn’t a hope of  _ more.  _ If there ever had been.

_ Except,  _ a little voice inside him piped up.  _ Except Nathan stayed.  _

“Duke?” Nathan said.

“Hmm?”

“Yes or no?”

_ Fuck.  _ While he’d been spacing out, Nathan had apparently asked him a question that Duke had completely missed. 

“Sorry, what?”

Nathan laughed. “Yeah, you’re definitely hungover. Asked if you wanted a glass of water.”

Duke nodded which sparked off another wave of alcohol induced pain that made him wince. “There’s some tylenol in the bathroom cabinet.”

“I’ll get them for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Coffee too?”

“No.” Duke thought he might have turned vaguely green around the edges at the thought of coffee. He usually did when he was this hungover. Like his stomach couldn’t handle anything except water. Breakfast would be out of the question, too.

Nathan nodded and got out of bed. He pulled on his jeans and t-shirt while Duke resolutely tried (and failed) not to look, then went out of the bedroom.

Duke flopped onto his back, one arm over his eyes and listened to the domestic sounds coming from the kitchen. Running water. The clink of a glass. More running water. A lower clink. A mug. Nathan was making himself coffee.

_ Gods.  _ What the fuck had he been doing last night? Sure, all the stuff with Pete had dragged up a proverbial shit ton of old memories and he’d been spiralling hard, but he’d had the scene with Nathan to take his mind off it. He hadn’t  _ needed  _ to get drunk.

Add another item to the list of Ways Duke Has Fucked Up.

He was good at that. Not getting drunk, though he was good at that too, but fucking up. Especially when it came to other people. He was a constant disappointment to them. He fucked up, let them down, and then they left the second they saw something they didn’t like. Every damn time.

And it hurt. Every damn time.

Sure, he’d hide it well, and he was fairly certain no one ever knew how much they’d hurt him, but still…

_ He  _ knew.

Which was, now that he thought about it (and he didn’t  _ want  _ to be thinking about it, mostly he just wanted to forget it had happened at all but that seemed pretty unlikely), exactly what last night had been about. It had been less about getting drunk and more about wanting Nathan to see every side of him. To show him everything he knew Nathan would hate because it would hurt less  _ now  _ than it would in six months, a year, whenever Nathan decided to walk away. Because he would. Duke was certain of that. Nathan would walk away. No one ever stayed with him. Better to push Nathan away now.

Except that Nathan  _ hadn’t  _ walked away. He’d stayed.

He’d stayed and he’d held Duke all night and - and - 

_ Fuck.  _

Now he was even more attached - even more  _ hopeful  _ \- than he’d been before.

What had started as a plan (an unconscious one, maybe a pattern more than a plan, as such) to push Nathan away had backfired. Now Duke wanted to cling to him more than ever, hold him tightly and tell him how he felt and hope and hope that Nathan wouldn’t leave him in the same way that everyone else did.

_ But what if - ?  _ His brain started.  _ What if telling him that is exactly  _ why  _ Nathan leaves?  _

Duke groaned in frustration as his thoughts spiralled into the same vicious circle they’d been in for weeks. Probably longer.

Fortunately he was distracted by Nathan coming back in with a glass of water and a packet of Tylenol. He handed both to Duke and stepped back. “I should head out.”

Duke nodded. “Thanks for staying.”

“No problem. See you Friday?”

“Yeah, sure, Friday. Your place?” That would be better. Easier. Probably.

Nathan nodded and flashed a little smile. “See you then,” he said and turned to leave.

_ Gods,  _ this felt awkward and Duke didn’t want Nathan to leave on  _ awkward.  _

“Hey, Nate?”

Nathan turned towards him.

“Thanks for staying. I mean it. It was kinda nice.”

Nathan went back over to the bed. “Yeah. It was.” He leaned down and gave Duke a soft, brief kiss, barely there before he was gone again. “Gotta run.”

And then he was gone, leaving Duke alone with his thoughts.

*

Duke’s hangover lasted two days. Two days of feeling like utter shit with a foggy sort of headache and so tired he thought he might actually be dying (until he texted Gloria who told him to stop being dramatic and drink more water). Two fucking days. The older he got, the longer it took him to get over a night of drinking. It had done since he’d turned thirty. Now he was nearer forty with the grey hairs to prove it, it was taking even longer. Two days. Two fucking days! After dramatically declaring to no one in particular that he was never drinking again (as he did every time), he couldn’t help wondering why his father had never stopped the days-long benders. Even if Duke hadn’t been enough of a reason, surely the hangovers themselves should have been worth giving up alcohol for.

But then he couldn’t seem to give it up either. A few days here and there after a hangover from hell but then something happened and he reached for the whiskey again. He should probably do something about that. Therapy or AA or something. Then maybe he’d stop doing stupid shit like telling Nathan his whole sorry life story.

Once his thoughts were no longer preoccupied with recovering from his hangover, they became just as preoccupied with Nathan. Again. As they always seemed to these days. It was like being a teenager again, except even more complicated because when he was a teenager he’d seen Nathan every day and now he didn’t. If he wanted to see Nathan, he’d either have to find an excuse to go to the station, or actually invite Nathan to spend time with him and neither option was particularly appealing after spilling his guts about everything that had happened. Well, going to the station was never appealing, obviously. But he  _ could  _ in theory go and pay his outstanding parking tickets, except he wouldn’t need to see Nathan for that, he’d be doing it on the off chance he ran into him and that seemed like a very expensive way of spending a few minutes with him. There was always getting himself arrested but no. That idea didn’t appeal much either.

What would he even say? “Yeah, hi, thanks for staying but can we forget everything I said?” No. No no no no no. Better to keep things normal and just see Nathan on Friday night like always. Getting back to their usual routine would make things better. Definitely.

So he tried to focus on work and at seven o’clock on Friday night, he tapped on Nathan’s front door, more nervous than he’d been the first time they’d done this.

“Hey,” Nathan said when he opened the door. “Good week?”

That was good. That was normal. Duke nodded. “You?”

“Fine. How was your hangover?”

Ah. Less normal. Exactly what Duke had wanted to avoid. He grinned, trying to brazen it out. “Must be getting old, Nate, took me two days to get over it.”

“Lucky you didn’t get alcohol poisoning,” Nathan said mildly, no hint of judgement in his voice.

Which was probably a fair comment, Duke  _ had  _ drunk enough whiskey to floor most people but he did actually know his limits and he very definitely didn’t want to end up in the ER having his stomach pumped. He knew from bitter experience just how not fun that was. Years ago, when he’d had the excuse of being young and stupid, he’d gotten away with a lecture but now it would raise  _ questions.  _ No one his age got that drunk by mistake. Gloria would probably put him on a psych hold and then Claire would start digging and that would be bad. Very bad.

It wasn’t like Duke didn’t  _ know  _ he was fucked up, he just preferred to deal with it in his own way and that didn’t involve talking to therapists. Or having another conversation about  _ feelings  _ with Nathan.

A hundred snarky comments rose to his lips.  _ Aww, Nate, it sounds like you care. I’m not an idiot, I do know what I’m doing.  _ He bit them all back. They were past this, past the bullshit and the snarking, and while they weren’t quite at the point where he could be soft about it, he didn’t want to be an ass about it either.

So he nodded and accepted the beer Nathan passed to him.

“Sure I shouldn’t make that a coffee?”

Duke bristled for a moment, a crawling sensation working its way from between his shoulder blades up the back of his neck, but only for a moment because Nathan was  _ smirking.  _ He was teasing. Playing. Like he used to when they were kids, light and without a hint of malice.

“Funny, Nate,” Duke said with a wry grin and a little shake of his head.

“Yup.” Nathan popped the ‘p’ and sounded so absurdly proud of himself that Duke laughed.

“You’re a dick,” Duke said through his laughter.

“Yeah, you love me anyway.”

“Yeah.”

_ Fuck.  _ Had he really just said that out loud?

And just like that, the mood turned from light to awkward.

Duke cleared his throat. “So where are we doing this then?”

Better to get things back on track. They both knew what they were here for and it would stop him from saying anything else stupid.

“Bedroom.” Nathan put down his half empty bottle and strode off, leaving Duke to follow.

He followed. Of course he followed. Not just because it was what they did, but because spending time with Nathan was the highlight of his week and maybe if Nathan hit him with his belt enough times, Duke would be able to forget everything stupid he’d said and done.

So he followed, only to stop short when he went into the bedroom.

The lights were off, the room lit only by the flickering golden light of what seemed like a hundred candles. Each gave off the scent of pine and spearmint and cedarwood that made Duke think of a cabin in the mountains, right at the edge of a forest with a clear stream bubbling past the door; fresh and homely all at once. Low music played on a speaker. Clapton, Wonderful Tonight. Immediately recognisable (no one played like Clapton. No one), and under any other circumstances Duke would be singing along. But not now. Now his mouth was dry and he could hardly breathe.

“Nate?” he said, voice quiet and uncertain.

“Get undressed.”

“What is this?”

“Giving you what you deserve. Get undressed.”

Duke gestured around the room. “This?  _ This  _ is what I deserve?”

“Yes. Get undressed.”

“Nate,” Duke sighed. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

Nathan stepped forward, stepped into Duke’s space, close enough that his breath tickled Duke’s ear when he murmured, “you have two choices here. Give me your safeword and leave. Or shut up and get undressed and accept what I give you.”

_ Fuck.  _ Very fuck. The room might be set up to be  _ soft. Nathan  _ might be soft and quiet. But he was still very much  _ in charge  _ and that was - that was - 

Hot. That’s what it was.

Duke started to unbutton his shirt in a tacit acceptance that yes, ok, this was different but Nathan was still in control. 

Nathan stepped away again, perched on the edge of the dresser with his arms folded, watching Duke intently as he finished taking his shirt off, then his tank and then finally his shoes and jeans. “Now me,” he said, standing up again as Duke dropped his jeans to the floor.

“Now you what?”

“Undress me.”

“That’s -” Duke stopped. 

He was about to argue that this wasn’t what they did. They weren’t  _ soft  _ like this. He still half wanted to argue but as Nathan had pointed out, he had two choices - safeword and leave, or do what Nathan wanted. A small part of him hoped that maybe changing things up was Nathan’s way of saying he wanted  _ more.  _ More soft. More cuddling. More than just an arrangement. He squashed it back down, though; he couldn’t let himself believe that, not when Nathan was probably just feeling guilty now that he knew how bad Duke had it when he was a kid.

Guilt. That’s why Nathan wanted to change things.

Fine. Duke could work with that. He could accept Nathan being soft with him, especially if he was going to be all hot and controlling right along with it, and if it helped ease Nathan’s guilty conscience, all the better.

So he stepped into Nathan’s space and started to undress him, slowly, without a hint of the impatience he really felt. He let his fingers graze Nathan’s skin at every opportunity; across his ribs as he slipped off his t-shirt; his thighs as he pulled down his jeans; his hips as he took off his briefs. Judging by the tiny hitches in Nathan’s breath every time Duke touched him, he very definitely didn’t mind the ghosting, barely there touches.

Finally, Duke knelt at Nathan’s feet. Both of them were naked. Both of them were visibly aroused. When Nathan brushed his fingers through Duke’s hair, a tiny sound akin to a purr escaped Duke’s throat.

“Lie down on the bed,” Nathan murmured as he took a step back.

Duke uncurled himself from the floor, catlike and elegant, and lay down, arms and legs outstretched.

“Good boy,” Nathan praised, softly and with a little smirk.

Duke’s cock twitched, reacting to the words and -  _ fuck,  _ did he have a kink for  _ praise?  _ He didn’t have time to think about it before Nathan was tying him up with smooth, silky ropes; around each wrist and each ankle, firmly securing him to the bed.

“Can you move?” 

Duke knew he couldn’t but he tested the ropes anyway. They gave him just enough space to shift his weight, to fidget and stretch and  _ writhe  _ but not enough to move. 

“No,” he confirmed, his mouth dry. He shouldn’t be nervous. They usually used handcuffs if Nathan wanted to restrain him, which were much harsher. These ropes were gentle, they wouldn’t leave a single mark, but with the handcuffs -

With the handcuffs, Nathan always gave him the key. He always gave him an  _ out.  _ Now he didn’t have that. He was completely at Nathan’s mercy with only his safewords to protect him. It left him more naked than ever.

“Good. You’re all mine.” Nathan’s voice was rough, gravelly, and sent another jolt straight to Duke’s cock.

Another followed when Nathan brushed his fingers along the lines of the tattoo on his bicep, so gentle and tender that it took Duke’s breath away. No one -  _ no one -  _ had ever been so gentle with him.

_ Giving you what you deserve.  _ That’s what Nathan had said. Duke had wanted to question it then, now he wanted to yell that he  _ didn’t  _ deserve it, he didn’t deserve any of this.

But  _ Nathan  _ clearly thought he did and Nathan was in charge so whatever Duke thought didn’t matter. Not right now. So he closed his eyes and tried to relax into it. 

"All mine," Nathan murmured, soft this time, but the words still sent another jolt racing down Duke's belly to his cock.

It was followed by another one when Nathan dipped his head and kissed along the same path his fingers had just taken, then down to Duke's wrist, back up, across his chest, down his other arm, over his chest again, and he was being gentle, so fucking gentle. Touches as light as feathers. Kisses like butterflies, dancing across his skin. Each one made Duke shiver and arch and drew a soft sound, unbidden, from low in the back of his throat. Each one was too much and not enough all at once.

"Please, Nate," Duke begged.

"Please, what, Duke?" Nathan said, his lips brushing Duke's nipple.

Duke gasped in a breath. "I can't - it's too -"

"What can't you do?"

_ "This.  _ It's too much, I can't -  _ please,  _ Nate."

"What do you want?"

"Please hit me," Duke whispered.

"No."

"Please, Nathan. Please hit me. I want - I want you to hit me."

_ Like you usually do. Be rough with me. Hit me. Punish me. Be  _ normal. 

Nathan pulled back, slid his fingers under Duke's jaw, forced his head up so their eyes met. "No," he said again. "You're mine. I want to do this to you."

Duke closed his eyes again, but opened them again when Nathan's fingers tightened on his jaw.

"What are your safewords, Duke?"

"Pancakes to stop, waffles to slow down or check in."

"And do you need to use them? Do you want to safeword out and stop this?"

Did he? Duke wasn't entirely sure. All the softness, the gentleness, was hard to take. It was hard to believe that he deserved this. 

But he didn't need to stop. He didn't want to disappoint Nathan and he couldn't deny that it felt good. So no. No safeword.

"No," he said quietly.

"Good boy," Nathan murmured and carried on.

_ God.  _ Those words again. Words that Duke hadn't known he needed to hear. They sent a rush through him, echoed by the rush that went through him when Nathan nibbled - there was no other word for it, lips with a hint of teeth - the sensitive spot just above Duke's hip.

He shivered, drowning in sensation; in  _ Nathan  _ and closeness; in touch and praise; already slipping into the mindset where nothing else mattered. He shivered again when Nathan moved back up to kiss along the line of his jaw.

“You don’t deserve the pain you give yourself,” Nathan said, quiet and intense, his lips brushing the shell of Duke’s ear, drawing another shiver from him.

Duke let out a little strangled sound and shook his head. “I do,” he whispered.

Nathan pulled away and Duke’s heart twisted uncomfortably. He fucked up. He argued and he fucked up and he disappointed Nathan and now Nathan would stop and it would be over. A hundred words sprang to his lips; apologies and declarations of love and promises of anything Nathan wanted if he would just  _ come back.  _

“Open your mouth,” Nathan said, holding up a sock he’d just pulled from a drawer.

Duke hesitated.

“Don’t worry, it’s clean.” Nathan rolled his eyes.

Duke obediently opened his mouth. Maybe this way he could be  _ good,  _ or at least  _ good enough  _ that he wouldn’t disappoint Nathan again.

“Can you breathe ok?”

Duke nodded.

“Good. If you need to safeword, tap the headboard three times. Got it?”

Duke nodded again.

“Can you reach it?”

Duke stretched out and tapped the headboard once. 

“Good,” Nathan said again. “Now you’re gonna have to listen to me and not argue.”

_ Fuck.  _ There was nothing Duke could do. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak; he could only lie there and listen and accept whatever Nathan wanted to say to him, more vulnerable than he ever had been before.

“You don’t deserve it, Duke. You - you’re amazing.”

As Nathan spoke, he traced patterns on Duke’s skin, following the contours of his body. Down the ridge of his abs, skating across his hips. 

Duke closed his eyes, the only escape he had left. The only refuge from the intensity of Nathan’s touch. From his words.

“You’re so brave. So strong. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before. I should have. You’ve had to fight for everything you have and someone should have helped you.  _ I  _ should have helped you. You’ve been through so much pain and you could’ve let it turn you bad but you didn’t. You’re kind and sweet and - and you’re  _ good.  _ You’re good, Duke and you don’t deserve any more pain in your life.”

Duke’s breath caught in his throat at those words, at the acknowledgement of his pain. It emerged as a choked sob, thankfully muffled by the sock in his mouth, and still Nathan didn’t stop, his words punctuated with more gentle caresses.

“You always help people, even when you pretend you don’t want to, or when you have to do it your own way. Everything you’ve done, you’ve done it because you had no choice. You’re the bravest man I’ve ever known, Duke, and I promise I’m going to spend the rest of my life making up for everything I did wrong.”

It was more words than Duke had ever heard Nathan say all at once, each one filled with a quiet intensity, as though it was costing him a lot to say.  _ He means it, then,  _ Duke’s brain logicked. If it was costing him something to say it, Nathan meant it.

Duke might have pursued that logic except then Nathan curled his fingers around his cock, cool against the heated flesh, and coherent thought was lost to him. He arched into the contact, unthinking, instinct taking over.

Nathan stroked him, slow and gentle; teasing rather than satisfying; and kept talking. “If you enjoy this stuff, if it’s about sensation or - or giving up control and not having to think for a while, that’s all good. But I want you to know that you don’t deserve it. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself.”

Another muffled, choked sob escaped from Duke but he barely noticed. He was too lost in Nathan’s touch and in his soft words. His whole body was shaking. He screwed his eyes tightly shut to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

“If I take that sock out of your mouth, will you argue with me?”

Duke shook his head and let out a frustrated little whimper when Nathan stopped stroking him to remove the makeshift gag. 

“Good,” Nathan murmured, cupping Duke’s jaw in his hand

Duke couldn’t help himself. He angled his face into Nathan’s hand and nuzzled his wrist, waiting to be told off, to be told that he didn’t deserve affection or attention, that everything Nathan had said had been a lie, a way to get into his head, all part of a game. He waited for Nathan to pull his hand away or to laugh cruelly or to slap him.

None of it happened. 

Nathan just brushed his thumb across Duke’s cheek before he gently pulled his hand away and leaned down to kiss him instead, warm and gentle. If a kiss could taste like coming home, that was what it tasted like.

It was over too soon. Duke craned his neck to try to maintain the contact but Nathan just smirked and started kissing his neck, then down over his shoulder, his chest, kissing every inch of his skin until he reached his cock. Then he expertly - surprisingly expertly, in fact, Duke had no idea that would be something Nathan was good at - took Duke’s cock into his mouth and started to suck.

Warm. Wet. Just the right amount of suction. A little twist of his head on each downstroke.

_ Fuck.  _

Duke pulled at the ties around his wrists, filled with a deep, previously unknown, yearning for closeness. To touch and hold and connect. To feel Nathan’s hair beneath his fingertips; Nathan’s body around his cock, as hot and welcoming as his mouth was, and -

_ Fuck.  _

Duke spilled into Nathan’s mouth with a long, drawn out moan of satisfaction.

_ Fuck.  _

_ Fuck. _

That was...embarrassingly fast. Duke wasn’t entirely convinced he’d come that fast since he was fifteen and Lisa Botke had pulled him behind the bleachers for a quick and dirty handjob.

Nathan didn’t seem to mind, though, he just swallowed and pulled off with a big, stupid grin all over his stupid lovable face. He didn’t say anything. Not a word as he swiftly but gently untied Duke - first his ankles, then his wrists, taking great care to rub where the ropes had been.

And the gentleness and care, coming on top of everything Nathan had said before, was like Nathan thought Duke was precious. Perhaps something fragile. Something worth taking care of and protecting and - and loving.

The realisation hit him like a brick and when Nathan lay down and pulled him into a hug, Duke clung to him as tightly as a drowning man might cling to a rock in a stormy sea. 

“Hey, hey,” Nathan murmured. “It’s ok, you’re ok, I’ve got you.”

“Mmhmm,” Duke hummed and relaxed his grip to slip one hand down between them and take hold of Nathan’s cock. 

He was hard, rock hard and hot under Duke’s hand, and there was a little hitch of breath, soft against Duke’s ear, when he curled his fingers around the shaft and started to stroke. 

Up, down with a little twist, repeat; slow but not teasing, just making sure Nathan had time to enjoy it.

“This is really what you want?” Nathan asked quietly, and Duke thought he might already be a little bit breathless.

“Yes.” Duke carried on, still clinging with his other arm, his face buried in Nathan’s neck, inhaling the warm scent of him, sandalwood soap and something citrussy.

He had to do this. If Nathan thought he was worth all this, Duke had to give something back. He  _ wanted  _ to give something back. He wanted to show Nathan that he was worth this too.

So he kept stroking. He held Nathan close, reacting to the minute changes in Nathan's body as his orgasm grew closer. Faster when Nathan's breathing picked up. Harder when every muscle started to tense. Faster and harder when shivers ran through Nathan and he pushed into Duke's hand, over and over until he came with a stuttered little breath that might have been a stifled cry of pleasure.

Then Duke stroked him softly, gentling him as Nathan came down. He reluctantly let go when Nathan pulled away to grab some tissues.

He'd barely finished wiping his hand when he found himself pulled back into a hug that felt like home.

"I meant it," Nathan said quietly. "Everything I said, I meant it."

"You did?" Duke said; whispered, really. Anything to hide the crack in his voice.

"Every word." Nathan whispered too, the words punctuated with a kiss to the side of Duke's head, just behind his ear.

It was the kiss that did it. The tiny display of affection that showed Duke how much Nathan valued him, that he thought Duke was worthy of all this. One minute Duke was filled with emotions but containing them, and the next minute tears were streaming down his cheek, accompanied by a choked sob that sounded like it came from someone else.

Nathan held him tightly. “It’s ok, Duke. I’ve got you,” he murmured. “Let it out.”

Oh  _ fuck.  _ Apparently he didn’t need alcohol to embarrass himself in front of Nathan because now he was  _ crying  _ and being soothed like a child and the worst part was that he kind of liked it. He liked being able to let go completely. He liked being taken care of.

Most of all, he liked the thought that Nathan believed he was worth all this effort. Nathan believed he was worth softness and candles and music and - and  _ love.  _ And if Nathan believed it then maybe it was true. Maybe he  _ was  _ worth this.

_ Maybe.  _

*

He stayed for longer than he usually would have. They each drank a beer and talked about nothing in particular.

He stayed for long enough that he was tempted to ask if he could stay the night.

He might have asked but Nathan’s eyelids started to droop and he’d already mentioned that he had the early shift the next day so Duke decided he should probably leave Nathan to get a good night’s sleep.

It didn’t occur to him that Nathan might sleep better with Duke beside him.

One thing did occur to him, though, when he was home and halfway through pouring himself a drink.

A drink that he didn’t need. Or even really want. A drink he was pouring himself out of habit.

He screwed the cap back on the bottle of whiskey and sat down with a glass of water instead, feeling just a tiny bit proud of himself for putting the whiskey down.

So instead of drinking like he usually would, he sat and thought instead. About how Nathan had taken the control that Duke loved so much and twisted it around into something soft and gentle. How he’d been so serious and attentive, even asked if Duke wanted to use one of his safewords. 

And Duke hadn’t. He’d accepted Nathan’s control, even though it was  _ new  _ and  _ different  _ and completely out of his comfort zone.

Because he trusted Nathan. Completely.

And Nathan valued him. For some absurd reason, Nathan valued him, therefore he - Duke - must have value and therefore he should be gentle and careful with this thing that Nathan cared about.

Duke sipped his water, unaware of the tiny smile that curled the corners of his mouth upwards.

Nathan cared.

Maybe they didn’t have to have a conversation about  _ more.  _

Maybe it was already  _ more.  _

Maybe it was already everything that Duke wanted.


	17. Nathan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note - Nathan does some stuff in this chapter that is very problematic, especially as he does it in his capacity as a law enforcement officer. It is the authors opinion that what he does is wrong. It is also Nathan's opinion that what he does is wrong (and he owns that). It's right for Duke, it's right for the story, so it stays, but I wanted to give readers a heads up that it's here.

Nathan was walking on air after that scene, full of smiles and humming under his breath. He didn’t even bother to hide it at work. Duke was his lover and he didn’t care who knew about it. They were happy and just because they hadn’t put a label on exactly  _ what  _ it was didn’t make it any less valid, even if he  _ did  _ want to shout from the rooftops -  _ Duke Crocker is my boyfriend.  _

Not that he would. He respected Duke’s privacy too much for that, but if people made assumptions based on some slightly giddy behaviour, he was ok with that and he thought Duke would be too. If anyone asked outright, he’d tell them. He wouldn’t deny Duke or minimise their relationship. 

Duke was too important to him for that, and he deserved better than to be a hidden secret.

He deserved better than Pete-fucking-Walker wandering around town, too. He deserved  _ justice  _ for what had happened to him and if Duke wouldn’t press charges, Nathan was going to do some digging and see if he could get rid of Pete-the-asshole some other way.

*

It was slow, frustrating going. 

A background check revealed numerous complaints against him over the past six years but never with enough evidence to make things stick. Either the victim withdrew their accusation, or Pete had a (probably fake) alibi, or it had been his word against the victims and the case had been dropped.

Sexual assault allegations were notoriously hard to prove and cases often fell apart during an investigation, or the DA would say it wasn’t enough to go to court. Of the ones that made it to court, many were thrown out by the judge. Nathan could completely understand why Duke - or any victim - wouldn’t want to press charges. The criminal justice system needed to do better by them.

So Nathan looked at the previous allegations. The asshole was careful. Damn careful. Never any DNA left behind. Always had a friend who would lie and say Pete was with them that night so couldn’t have done it.

He spoke to one previous victim - the only one who’d been willing to talk to him - who had said that Pete had threatened his life if he didn’t drop the charges. Nathan asked if he’d be willing to go on record with that, but no. The guy was still scared enough, five years after it had happened, that he didn’t want to have anything to do with it, even with Nathan’s assurances of round the clock police protection.

Next up was to talk to Pete’s alibis. There were two still in town. One was a drug addict who would say or do anything for money. Nathan had tried on more than one occasion to get her help but it never stuck and at least she was using Gloria’s clean needle program at the hospital. She’d claimed that Pete had been getting high with her on the night in question but that had been three years ago and she couldn’t even remember who Pete was, let alone what she might have been doing on that particular evening. The other had been a friend of Pete’s, although judging by the way he snarled  _ “That asshole”  _ when Nathan mentioned Pete’s name, he thought that they probably weren’t friends anymore. But they had been back then, and the guy swore blind that Pete had been with him that night, even after Nathan assured him that there would be no comeback on him for lying to the police two years ago.

He was getting precisely nowhere and, weeks later, early one Friday morning, he staked out Pete’s apartment and waited for him to leave.

It was early enough that no one was around. No one saw him go up to the apartment. No one saw him pick the lock - a useful skill that Duke had taught him when they’d been kids but he was by no means an expert and it took him a few minutes where Duke would have been able to open it in a couple of seconds - and slip in through the door.

He held his breath for a moment, waiting for an alarm to sound. Maybe it would be better if it had, he could have used it as an excuse for being there, but in the event, the apartment stayed silent and he let out his breath as a little sigh of relief.

Right. Search. Systematic, make sure nothing was left out of place, just as he would if he was here with a warrant and not here doing something very illegal which would cost him his job and earn his father's disapproval if anyone found out. 

Kitchen first. Nothing there, which he’d expected, he’d started there to get it out of the way. Then the bathroom. It was spotless. Maybe a good forensic tech could get something from it but he definitely couldn’t get a team in here without a warrant. Move on…

The living room was minimalist. Nathan supposed it was stylish but to him it looked bare and devoid of character. Not that it mattered. There was nothing to find there, either.

Bedroom. Equally minimalist, equally devoid of character, equally empty of anything that might pass as evidence without a forensic tech and a fine tooth comb.

The second bedroom held more potential. It was completely soundproofed, top to bottom, and the window had been blocked off. A chain hung from the ceiling, right in the centre of the room. It had metal shackles attached, and a winch system. 

Nathan felt sick looking at it, imagining Duke hanging there and what Pete had done to him to cause the injuries that Duke had been admitted to hospital with.

No time for that. Move on. 

In the corner was a cupboard which held various implements and ropes and toys that would undoubtedly house evidence, as would a large cross that was screwed to the wall. A closer look revealed a stain which might have been blood. Impossible to tell without testing. 

Nathan could have screamed with frustration. He was tempted, given that he was in a soundproofed room and the soundproofing must be effective as there hadn’t been any noise complaints from the neighbours. He was standing in a literal fucking torture room and there was  _ nothing.  _ Instead, he took a deep breath. He couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him. This was too important.

One room left to check.

As he turned to go, he caught a glimpse, a tiny glint of something in the doorframe, barely noticeable but definitely there. A closer examination revealed a miniature camera embedded into the wood. It was the sort used for surveillance and it was at exactly the right height to give a good view of the room.

_ Fuck. _

Was it set up to record all the time? Nathan breathed hard, his hands and knees going weak. Pete would know he’d been here and that would mean that either he’d make a formal complaint against Nathan, or he’d be even more careful about what he was doing and then there’d be no chance of catching him.

Ok. Nothing he could do about it now. Check the last room and get the hell out of here. Then he could worry about the what ifs.

The last room was locked.

Nathan pulled out his lockpicks again, carefully opened it and stepped inside.

As he’d expected, it was an office. Desk and chair. A large monitor that was so big it almost dwarfed the small room. Laptop. The laptop was password protected, of course, and Nathan’s technical abilities didn’t stretch to cracking a password so he moved on to the desk drawers. Which weren’t locked. Surprising, maybe, but Pete was obviously confident enough that no one would come in here to leave them open.

Nathan started to go through them.

Top drawer. Pens. Notepad. Checkbook. The usual stuff.

Second drawer. Cables. An old flip cell phone. Nothing untoward, unless there was something interesting on the cell phone but the battery was dead when Nathan tried to turn it on and none of the charging cables fitted.

The bottom drawer was where it got interesting. Flash drives. Hundreds of them. Neatly stacked. Each one labelled with a date and a name. They’d all be encrypted, Nathan was certain of that, but he was also certain that they were recordings from the camera he’d found in the torture room. He started to go through them. There were a few names he recognised from the complaints made against Pete. Another name that he recognised from around town. 

And Duke’s name.

_ God,  _ Nathan’s heart hurt seeing that. 

It was dated from the day before he’d been called to the hospital to collect Duke. He slipped it into his pocket and carried on, picking out all the drives with Duke’s name on and pocketing them. Duke would want him to do that. Especially if there was going to be a formal investigation. Especially if there was a chance anyone else would see them.

Eventually, he got back to drives dated 2012 which was before Pete moved to Haven. No point looking at those. If they could get an official investigation underway, he’d make contact with the local department from Pete’s old town and see if there had been any complaints back then that they could tie into it. But that was a big  _ if  _ at the moment.

He pulled out his notebook and jotted down the two most recent names, both dated in the past month. Maybe they’d be willing to talk.

*

After Nathan left the apartment, he drove over to Doble’s beach.

He picked up a rock and violently smashed the flash drives into smithereens that he tossed into the ocean. And then he walked.

And walked.

And panicked.

And walked.

And panicked some more.

Quite a lot of panicking, actually. 

He’d just conducted an illegal search. He’d stolen evidence. No, fuck it, it hadn’t been an illegal search and stolen evidence, it had been a burglary. He’d broken in and stolen someone’s property. Not only did that make him a terrible cop but it made him a  _ criminal  _ and not even a particularly good one seeing as he’d probably been caught on camera. He could just imagine Dwight having to arrest him, how apologetic he’d be, how everyone would watch and stare as Dwight led him to the cells.

His father’s disappointed face flashed into his mind but that was nothing compared to imagining how Duke might react. Might he be proud? Appalled? Angry? Might he be angry enough that he wouldn’t want anything to do with Nathan anymore (even supposing that Nathan avoided a prison sentence) and ended things.

Fuck.

Nathan doubled over and threw up, grateful that he hadn’t eaten anything that morning so there wasn’t much to come out.

_ Fuck.  _

He stood up again, ran the back of his hand across his mouth. There was no time for panicking and wallowing. He’d had to let Patrick Grolsch go and there was no way in hell he was letting Pete Walker get away.

Everything he’d done would be for nothing if he didn’t nail Pete-Fucking-Walker for good.

*

Twenty minutes later, he was back at the station. 

Twenty minutes after that, he had the victims' addresses. 

Three hours after that, he had written, signed statements from them that he took to Judge Boone and got a warrant for Pete’s arrest.

The timing would be crucial. Pete was a salesman who travelled between clients. He would either be on the road or at home. A quick call to his head office in New York city revealed that his last appointment was in Derry at 3.30.

Good. With a bit of luck, Nathan would have him arrested and in a cell and would be able to give Duke the good news when he arrived for their scene tonight.

At least he hoped it would be good news. There was every possibility that Duke would be pissed at him for interfering, or that Duke would be scared that Pete would think he had something to do with it and come after him. It could, in fact, go very very badly.

But Nathan wasn’t going to dwell too much on that possibility. He’d done the  _ right thing.  _ He was confident in that.

And he was confident in his ability to break Pete once he was in an interview room. Once he was faced with someone he couldn’t intimidate, he’d crack. Guys like him always did. He would admit to what he’d done, then Nathan could get a search warrant for his apartment, take the video evidence legally, and have a quiet word with one of the techs and ask them to lose any surveillance of him breaking into the apartment. He could get a forensic team in there to gather physical evidence too. There should be enough evidence to deny any bail application that Pete might make. He wouldn’t be free for a long, long time.

First step, arrest him.

If Pete was in Derry at 3.30, he wouldn’t be home before 4.30, but there was always the possibility that head office had tipped him off so Nathan went straight over to the apartment to wait for him to get home.

It was lucky that he did. Pete must have had a call because he pulled up in the parking lot a little after 4pm, in a screaming cloud of tyre smoke, right beside Nathan’s truck.

“Pete Walker,” Nathan called out as he jumped out of the Bronco and strode over to him. 

Pete had barely gotten out of his car by the time Nathan reached him.

“Pete Walker, I’m arresting you on suspicion of sexual assault,” Nathan began but didn’t finish. His words were cut off by a soft whoomph as Pete hit him with a sucker punch to the gut.

_ Fuck that hurt.  _ No time to think about it, just react.

Before Pete could get another blow in, Nathan had him on the floor, hands pinned behind his back.

“Pete Walker, I’m arresting you on suspicion of sexual assault,” Nathan said again as he cuffed him. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”

“Fuck you,” Pete growled.

“Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?” Nathan said, digging his knee into the small of Pete’s back.

He yelped. “Yes! Yes, I understand.”

“Good.” Nathan hauled him to his feet, ignoring the pain in his gut. That was going to be a hell of a bruise by tomorrow morning. He shoved Pete into the Bronco and slammed the door, then leaned against it, breathing hard.

Too hard, given the amount of exertion. He wasn’t that out of shape.

His knees were weak too. Adrenaline rush?

He glanced down.

Blood flowered outwards on his shirt.

A bloody knife lay on the ground beside Pete’s car door.

_ Fuck.  _

That was  _ a lot  _ of blood. 

Nathan’s vision was starting to blur. He pulled the radio from his belt.

“Laverne. Backup. My location. Officer down.” He dropped the radio as he fell to the floor.

The last thing he heard was Laverne’s frantic reply. “On their way hon, you stay with me, you hear me? You stay with me!”


	18. Duke

A little before seven p.m, Duke got into his truck and drove over to Nathan’s house for their scene. Or date. Or whatever they were calling it these days.

It didn’t matter what they were calling it, not when each time seemed to get better and better. Nathan seemed to know Duke’s body and his needs better than Duke himself did. Every scene was now a perfect mix of control and softness and just the right amount of pain.

But they still hadn’t talked. Or met up outside of their Friday night arrangement. Last week, it had been on the tip of Duke’s tongue to say “come over for dinner” but he’d backed out at the last minute.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake this week.

_ Come for dinner.  _

How hard could it be? 

Very hard, apparently, or he would already have said it. Weeks ago. Maybe even months ago. But he wasn’t going to think too hard about that and the reasons he kept putting it off or he’d end up backing out again.

Tonight, before he left, he was going to ask.

One minute to seven. He turned onto Nathan’s driveway and slammed the brakes on, harder than he’d really meant to.

_ Odd.  _

No sign of the Bronco. 

Maybe it was in the shop or the old engine had finally given up and Nathan had taken it to the scrap yard. Somehow he doubted that because Nathan was very attached to that old truck and if the engine  _ had  _ let go, he would probably search around and replace it with the closest engine he could find.

No doubt he’d find out in a minute because if something  _ had _ happened with the Bronco, someone had probably dropped Nathan home. Duke parked and jumped out, as eagerly as he always did.

His knock on the door went unanswered. A quick glance at his phone revealed no message either.

Nathan had probably been held up at work, then. Paperwork or a case that came in late or something.

It was unusual, though. Over a year since they’d started this whole thing and Nathan hadn’t been late a single time. 

Duke went back to his truck and leaned against it, waiting. Nathan probably wouldn’t be long.

Probably.

By the time half an hour had passed, he was sinking into a pit filled with dark thoughts.

Maybe Nathan didn’t want to do this anymore. Maybe he was bored with him. Maybe Duke hadn’t been good enough. Or bad enough. Whichever. Maybe he just didn’t matter anymore.

He racked his brain, trying to work out what he’d said or done wrong the week before - or even before that - but he couldn’t think of anything. Everything had seemed fine.

Unless…

Unless Nathan sensed that Duke wanted  _ more _ and he  _ didn’t  _ so he was pulling away. That could be it. Nathan could be annoyingly intuitive sometimes. Maybe Duke hadn’t even hidden it particularly well, maybe he’d made it too obvious, been too clingy or something.

Duke looked from the house to the road and back again, then fixed his eyes on the ground and rubbed the back of his neck.

Yeah, that could definitely be it. Nathan could tell and he was pulling away.

But to just not show up? That was very un-Nathan-y. That was rude. Thoughtless. For all his faults (none of which Duke was oblivious to), Nathan was very rarely rude or thoughtless. Recently, anyway. Maybe he had been, way back before they started this when he still mostly hated Duke, but not recently. Not since that day at the hospital.

He probably didn’t know what to say. He was probably buying himself time to find the right words. Something like, “look, sorry Duke, but this was only ever about sex, I can’t give you what you want so I think we should stop seeing each other”. He’d be kind about it, Duke knew that. But no matter how kindly it was put, it was still going to hurt.

Maybe he should just leave. Text Nathan to say ‘ _ message received’  _ and maybe blow town for a while. He had enough provisions on the Rouge that he could leave straight away.

_ Not yet,  _ the hopeful voice in his mind piped up.  _ Don’t leave yet, he’s probably just late.  _

But as 30 minutes moved closer to an hour, the fear grew louder.

He  _ trusted  _ Nathan. He’d been trusting him for a long time now but over the last few weeks, he’d become wholly invested in their unique relationship and he’d started to let his guard down. And as soon as he had, Nathan had changed his mind. Nathan had pushed him away. Nathan hated him again.

Everything Nathan had said had been a lie.

He was nothing. A nobody. Duke Crocker: A (mostly) reformed ex con, paranoid pirate, kinky motherfucker, dirty, damaged, piece of shit. A  _ pretty little thing  _ but nothing more.

No one had ever wanted him, not until Nathan, and now Nathan didn’t want him either.

Eight o’clock.

Duke sighed, got into his truck and drove home.

It didn’t occur to him that something might have happened to keep Nathan away.

*

By nine o’clock, he’d made steady inroads into a bottle of cheap whiskey and was most of the way to drunk when there was a scuffle of footsteps and a knock on the hatch.

“Nate!” he said, flinging the hatch open. He didn’t bother to disguise his relief.

Or his disappointment when it wasn’t Nathan standing there.

“Duke,” Dwight greeted him. “Mind if I come in?”

“Depends. Do I need a lawyer?”

“No. It’s about Nathan.”

Duke’s heart skipped a beat. He nodded, his mouth too dry to speak.

Dwight stepped around him, carefully closed the hatch when Duke didn’t, and guided Duke over to the table to sit down.

“Shouldn’t be here,” he said, sitting opposite Duke. “You aren’t family but I know you two have something going on and I think you have a right to know.”

_ Know what?  _

Duke didn’t ask. He knew anyway. Nathan was dead. Killed on duty. He didn’t need Dwight to say it. Nathan was dead and all Duke had been able to think about was himself and how worthless he was. God, he really was a selfish piece of shit.

“Duke!” Dwight said sharply. “Did you hear what I said?”

Duke shook his head, trying to focus on Dwight through the haze of alcohol.

“I said, he’s in the hospital. He went to arrest a suspect, got stabbed.”

Hospital. Hurt. Bad. 

Not dead. Good.

“How bad?” Duke asked, his voice raspy.

“Seen worse. I was first on scene. He lost a lot of blood. Last I heard, he was in surgery. That was an hour or so ago.”

Duke nodded and took a big gulp of whiskey to sharpen himself up. “Ok. Thanks. I’ll head over there.”

Dwight raised his eyebrows. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Fuck you,” Duke snapped and stood up. “I need to be there, it’s not illegal, you can’t stop me.”

Dwight grabbed his wrist. “I meant,” he said mildly, “because you’ve been drinking.”

“Wasn’t going to drive,” Duke mumbled. He wanted to leave, to get over to the hospital and feel like he was doing something instead of sitting around like the piece of shit he was.

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“You-” Duke choked up and nodded. He was being a dick. An hour of wallowing in his own self pity and then finding out Nathan was hurt...he wasn’t at his best right now but Dwight was still being kind to him. “Thanks,” he said after a moment.

“No problem. You ready to go?”

Duke put down the bottle, picked up his phone, wallet, keys, and nodded. “I’m ready.”

Dwight led the way out to the truck. He waited patiently while Duke locked up, dropped his keys and picked them up again, and he didn’t say anything when Duke weaved his way over to the truck.

They drove in silence for a few minutes. Duke desperately tried to sober up. Mostly he was inwardly berating himself for thinking the worst and getting drunk while Nathan was getting stabbed and possibly dying. 

_ Fuck.  _ What if Nathan died? What if Nathan died without knowing how Duke felt about him? Without knowing he was loved and cared about? He felt sick at the thought.

“Do you know who did it?” he asked after another few minutes. Anything to distract himself from the terrible thoughts that consumed him.

“Yes, and he’s in custody.”

“You got him already?”

“No, Nathan did. He arrested him for something else, had him cuffed in the back of the Bronco when I arrived.”

“Who was it?”

Dwight sighed. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

Duke just nodded. He  _ did  _ know that. It didn’t stop him from wanting to know, though.

“Sorry I didn’t get over to you sooner. I was collecting evidence from the scene, make sure we can nail the guy for attempted murder.”

“Yeah, no, I get it. His father know?”

“Not yet. Old Chief’s on a fishing trip, won’t have cell service until tomorrow.”

Duke choked up and swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. Nathan would be on his own. He wasn’t family, he wasn’t next of kin, the hospital probably wouldn’t even let him in to be with Nathan. He’d be lying in a hospital bed, completely alone. Maybe he wouldn’t even know Duke was there.

_ Oh god.  _

What if Nathan died, completely alone?

“Duke,” Dwight said, patiently, as though he’d said Duke’s name several times already and not had a response.

Duke looked up, looked around. As lost in his thoughts as he had been, he hadn’t realised they’d pulled up outside the hospital.

“I need to get back to the station. Call us when you know anything.”

“Yeah, no, of course. Thanks, Dwight.”

Duke jumped out of the truck, watched while Dwight drove off, and then walked into the hospital, his hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders hunched over.

He stopped in the middle of the large reception area and looked around. He didn't know where Nathan was. Surgery, Dwight had said, but he wouldn't be allowed there. No one knew he was here, no one would come and find him to let him know how Nathan was. He had no idea where to go.

Until a tiny bundle of anger wrapped up in a white med coat appeared by his side and took him by the elbow.

"Hey, Duke," she said softly. 

That was bad. She was soft. Soft was bad, soft meant bad news.

"Hey Gloria," Duke said, his voice raw with emotion. He allowed her to lead him into the family room.

"How are you doing, kitten?"

"Don't, Gloria. Just tell me how Nathan is."

"He's going to be ok," Gloria assured him. "He's still in surgery, Dr. Grey is working on him, she's our very best. He was badly hurt, it'll take a while to put him back together, but she's confident that he'll make a full recovery."

Duke let out a desperate sob of relief. "He'll really be ok? He won't die?"

"There are no guarantees at this stage, kiddo, but based on what we knew when he went into surgery, he'll really be ok."

Duke stood up and ran his hands through his hair, started to pace. "I thought - I really thought…"

"I know," Gloria said softly. "I know, kitten."

“You don’t. You really don’t.”

“So tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Duke sighed and sat back down. That was a valid question. Why shouldn’t he talk to someone about it? He’d spoken to Bill, sort of, a few months back, even if he  _ had  _ pretended there was nothing serious going on. Bill had seen through him, he knew that. 

“This is covered by doctor-patient confidentiality, right?” he said, gesturing between himself and Gloria.

“No, it’s covered by me not being an asshole confidentiality,” Gloria said, sounding somewhat grumbly.

Duke decided not to push his luck. “Me and Nate, we’ve had a thing going for a while.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I was about to, if you’d shut up for long enough to let me speak.”

Gloria rolled her eyes and gestured for him to continue.

“It wasn’t meant to be serious,” Duke said, assuming Gloria would accept the euphemism for  _ it was just fucking,  _ because he really didn’t want to say that to his vodka drinking pseudo-aunt figure. It would be weird.

“But it is?”

Duke nodded. “I love him.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Gloria said again, but softly this time.

“You know?”

Gloria nodded. “You’re very good at hiding stuff but not when it comes to Nathan. You get this dreamy look every time his name is mentioned and you make heart eyes every time you see him and you’re softer around him, you lose some of that brittle edge you like to carry to keep people away.”

“Well, fuck,” Duke said with a little awkward laugh. “Does everyone know?”

_ Please say no, please say no, please say no.  _ He couldn’t bear the thought that everyone knew how he felt. Not before he’d had the chance to tell Nathan. And especially not if Nathan didn’t feel the same way about him. He could just imagine the laughter, the hushed voices, whispers that carried over to him. “ _ Duke Crocker’s in love with Nathan Wuornos. What an idiot. Does he really think Nathan would ever want him after everything he’s done? A criminal with a cop? How ridiculous!”  _

“Not everyone,” Gloria said. “Your staff. Your friends. People who know you and have seen you together.”

Duke nodded. That was ok. Probably. “What about Nate? Do you think he knows?”

“I think Nathan is so busy hiding how he feels that he probably hasn't noticed you're doing the same.”

“How he feels?”

“He loves you too, Duke,” Gloria said softly.

Duke’s heart stopped, then thumped, racing in his chest. God, how he hoped Gloria was right. But hope was stupid. Hope was childish and stupid and it  _ wasn’t possible.  _ “He doesn't,” he said, his voice choked. “He doesn't feel the same.”

“Oh? And how do you know that?”

“He's never said anything.”

“And have you?”

“No.” Duke’s voice was choked again, the word coming out more like a sob. He swallowed hard, took a deep breath and tried again. “No, I haven't and what if he dies without ever knowing I love him?”

“He's not going to die, kiddo.”

“But what if he _ does? _ What if I never get the chance to tell him?”

“You will. You'll be able to tell him. The question is - why haven't you already?”

“Because -” Duke hesitated, debating whether he should come up with a clever lie or stick with honesty. Honesty won out. He’d mostly sobered up but there was still enough alcohol in his system that he wasn’t quite as sharp as usual and he didn’t fancy Gloria spotting a lie and calling him out on it. “Because he doesn't feel the same and I can’t handle the rejection.”

“Oh kitten.” Gloria sighed. “He feels the same.”

“He-” Duke looked up at her, half hopeful, half suspicious. “How do you know?”

“Because he's different around you too. He's softer, he smiles more easily, he always stands close to you, like he wants to occupy the same space as you do.”

“I thought he just wanted to - oh fuck, I've been such a fucking idiot.”

_ How?  _ How the hell hadn’t he seen it? Now that Gloria had said it, it was so fucking obvious. Nathan  _ was  _ softer with him than anyone else, and he always seemed to be smiling when Duke was around him but it was a smile that faded into his usual stony expression as soon as he had to talk to someone else, and the closeness...oh god, the closeness. Nathan  _ always  _ wanted to be in his space. He had done when they were kids and he did now and Duke had just thought - as kids, he’d assumed Nathan didn’t have much understanding of social boundaries and it wasn’t as if he’d minded so he just didn’t say anything, and now he’d assumed that it was a display of Nathan’s dominance, a way of reminding Duke that he was there and he was in control.

_ Fuck. _

“Yes,” Gloria said, her voice underlined with just a hint of laughter. “Yes, I’d say you’ve been a fucking idiot.”

“What am I going to do, Gloria?”

“Kiddo, you’re gonna man up and tell him how you feel.”

Duke nodded, although that thought terrified him almost as much as the thought that Nathan might die. “And he's really going to be ok?”

Gloria didn’t have a chance to answer before there was a tap on the door.

“Update on Chief Wuornos for you, Dr. Verrano,” a blonde lady in surgical scrubs said when she came in.

“You can go ahead, Dr. Grey,” Gloria said.

Dr. Grey glanced between Gloria and Duke. “Is this…?”

“It’s fine, he’s family.”

“Oh, I thought-”

“It’s fine,” Gloria said firmly.

“Ok, well, the surgery went well, he’s in recovery at the moment, should be coming round any minute now.”

“He’s really going to be ok?” Duke said.

“Yes, he’ll be fine. He’ll need to rest and I’d like to keep him here for observation for a few days, but he’ll make a full recovery.”

“Thank you,” Duke said quietly, relief flooding through him.

“One thing, he came around just before he went under the anaesthetic, asked for someone called Duke. I don’t know if it’s a friend or a dog or whatever, but if one of you could find him…”

“This is Duke,” Gloria said, gesturing towards him.

“Oh!” Dr. Grey smiled. “Then I think he’ll be very happy to see you when he wakes up.”

“Can I see him?”

“Soon. He’ll wake up for a few minutes in recovery, the nurses will check him over, then move him to his room. You can see him there.”

“I want to be with him when he wakes up.”

“I’ll make sure he knows you’re here but we don’t allow relatives in the recovery room.”

Duke looked pleadingly at Gloria.

“No, kitten. He’ll still be out of it, he won’t know you’re there anyway. He’ll probably go back to sleep and you’ll be right there when he wakes up properly.”

Dr. Grey smiled reassuringly. “I’ll send a nurse to find you once he’s settled in his room.”

Duke nodded. “Ok, thank you.”

Gloria waited until Dr. Grey had left the room and closed the door behind her. “See?” she said smugly.

“See what?”

“Nathan will be fine. And he was asking for you.”

“Yeah,” Duke said quietly. Gloria was right. Now he just had to screw up the courage to tell Nathan how he felt.

It wouldn’t be easy but he wasn’t going to keep putting it off. Life was too short.

*

_ Beep. _

_ Beep. _

_ Beep. _

The monitor beeped steadily, the sound oddly comforting. Nathan might look dead; pale and frail beneath the white hospital sheets, but the wires coming out of him and the monitors attached to him reassured Duke that he was alive. He watched the numbers for a moment. Bright colours on a black screen, vaguely nausea inducing, though that could be down to his hangover. Heart rate. Oxygen saturation. Blood pressure. Respiration. Temperature. He had no real sense of what he was looking at, whether it was good or bad, but nothing was flashing or blaring a warning so it must all be ok.

One of the nurses had filled him in on Nathan’s condition, in words he didn’t completely understand and would ask Gloria to explain later. He got the gist of it, though. Nathan had been stabbed, badly, had a lot of internal injuries, but Dr. Grey had worked her magic and he would be fine. He’d woken up in recovery, asked for Duke again, and gone back to sleep almost straight away. They weren’t expecting him to wake up for another couple of hours yet. Duke had been advised to go and get a coffee and something to eat but he’d refused. 

All he wanted was to be with Nathan.

He let out a shaky breath and sat down in the chair beside the bed. Gently, carefully, so as not to dislodge any of the monitors or IV lines, he took hold of Nathan’s hand.

It was the first time he'd held Nathan's hand since they were kids. Back then, they'd always held hands and hugged and cuddled and he used to sneak into Nathan's room at night where it was warm and cosy and it felt like home. And then it had all gotten  _ difficult.  _ Impossible, really, when they'd both gone in different directions and hadn't been able to understand each other. Or at least, Nathan hadn't been able to understand him.

They'd lost each other for so long. In another world, one that was less complicated, maybe they would have been childhood sweethearts who grew up together and got married and spent the rest of their lives in blissful happiness. But not in this one. This world was fraught with difficulties and uncertainties and a hundred different reasons they shouldn't be together.

None of that mattered now. He was never going to let go of Nathan again. No matter what.

"I'm here, Nate," he said quietly. "You asked for me and I'm here."

There was only silence in response, though the heart rate on the monitor dropped from 75 to 63 so maybe Nathan knew he was there and welcomed the contact.

_ A couple of hours,  _ Duke reminded himself. Just a couple of hours. Nathan should be awake by around one o'clock in the morning at the latest. At the  _ latest. _ And once Nathan was awake, then he could tell him how he felt and then he could relax and rest. Right here. He wouldn't go home, but he could nap in the chair and stay right by Nathan's side for as long as he was allowed to.

The silence dragged on until a little after midnight. Then Nathan's fingers twitched in Duke's hand, and he made a muffled, mumbled sound that might have been Duke's name.

"I'm here," Duke murmured, squeezing Nathan's hand. "I'm here, Nate."

A smile ghosted across Nathan's lips. "Duke," he mumbled, more definitely this time.

"Hey," Duke said softly, leaning forwards. His eyes definitely weren't stinging with tears and even if they were, it was hangover induced or tiredness or something. He reached over to touch Nathan's shoulder, hesitated and pulled back, unsure if the touch would be welcome or if he was setting himself up for a huge rejection. "How are you feeling?" he asked instead, and sat back. He didn't let go of Nathan's hand, though.

"'m ok. Tired."

"Not too sore?"

Nathan shook his head. "I'm ok."

“Do you need anything? Water?”

“No. Just need you.”

Duke stroked the back of Nathan’s hand with his thumb.  _ Just need you.  _ His heart fluttered, thudding in his chest as though it wanted to escape and throw itself at Nathan. “I’m right here, Nate. Not going anywhere. And I need -” He cut off as the door opened.

“Ah, Chief Wuornos,” a nurse said when he walked in. “I thought I heard voices and figured you were awake.”

“‘m awake,” Nathan mumbled.

“Good. I’m Jamal, I’m on duty tonight,” he said, writing in the chart at the foot of Nathan’s bed. “I see you’re in good hands with your boyfriend here.”

_ Boyfriend.  _ Duke steeled himself for the inevitable correction.

“Yeah, I am,” Nathan said, looking at Duke with a soft smile.

Oh. No correction. Did that mean -?

“Excellent. I’ll just run some checks and then I’ll leave you to rest.” Jamal peeled back the bedsheet and lifted Nathan’s gown to check the wound on his abdomen. “Ok, all looks good. Any pain?”

“No.”

“Good. Hit the buzzer if you need more pain meds and I’ll be right in. How are you feeling otherwise?”

“I’m fine,” Nathan said. To a casual observer, it would have sounded polite but Duke could practically hear his teeth grinding.

Jamal nodded. “Any nausea? Drowsiness?”

“No. Tired. Otherwise I’m fine.”

“Ok. Then I will leave you to it.” Jamal smiled and swept out as quickly as he’d arrived, leaving them alone again.

Duke waited until the door was closed before he took hold of Nathan’s hand again. “You’re really ok?”

“I’m really ok. Just tired,” Nathan said softly.

_ Tired.  _ Nathan had said that three times in a row. Maybe now wasn’t the time for declarations of love which would lead to in depth discussions about feelings. As much as Duke wanted to tell him so Nathan was left in no doubt about how he felt, it was probably a conversation best left until the morning.

“You should rest,” he said.

“Just woke up.”

“But you’re tired.”

“Tired, not sleepy.”

Duke nodded. "Nate, I -" he said, just as Nathan said, "Did they -?"

"Sorry," Duke said. "Go on."

Nathan shook his head. "No, you first."

"No, no, really. Did they what?"

"Did they call you?"

"Uh, no. Dwight came over to tell me, gave me a ride over here."

Nathan tried to sit up, wincing at the small movement.

"Nate, Nate, just lie still," Duke said, putting his hand on Nathan's shoulder.

"Dwight told you? Do you know if they arrested him?"

"Yes. Dwight said you had him cuffed in the back of the Bronco so he took him in."

"Ok, good, that's good. I fucked up, Duke."

"You - you didn't fuck up. You cuffed him, you caught him, he's in a cell."

"No. Before that."

Duke squeezed Nathan's shoulder. "It doesn't matter right now, ok? All that matters is you're safe and you're gonna be ok."

"It matters." Nathan struggled into a sitting position despite Duke's hand on his shoulder.

"Ok, ok," Duke said softly. "But you need to keep still, ok?"

"Fine." Nathan glared at him, a flash of  _ in control cop Nathan _ who was very displeased about being told what to do. "I'm keeping still."

"Good boy," Duke said with a smirk and sat back in his chair.

Nathan rolled his eyes. "I fucked up and it might affect you, too. It shouldn't, I'm sure I - you should be fine."

Duke frowned. What the hell was Nathan talking about? "Ok, why don't you tell me what happened?"

“Pete Walker,” Nathan said, looking everywhere except at Duke

_ Fuck.  _

“What about him?” Duke asked, more calmly than he felt.

“That’s who I arrested. That’s who…” Nathan trailed off.

“He did this? He hurt you?”

Nathan nodded. “I kept you out of it.”

Duke let out a shaky breath. This was bad. Very bad. He really needed to know exactly what Nathan was talking about so he could work out what the  _ fuck  _ he was going to do. “Ok,” he said after a moment. “Can you fill me in, please?”

“I didn’t want - I don’t think - he wouldn’t have left you alone. And what he did, it wasn’t  _ right  _ and I know you didn’t want to press charges but something needed to be done. So I investigated and came up with jack shit.” Nathan’s voice was tight, angry. “I broke into his place yesterday.”

“You did  _ what?”  _ Duke wasn’t sure whether to be horrified or admiring. Nathan breaking the rules? His brain wasn’t quite computing that.

“I broke in. Searched his apartment. Saw the room.”

_ Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.  _

“Ok, and?”

“In his office...flash drives. Hundreds of ‘em. Names, dates.”

“Fuck. He was -?”

Nathan nodded. “I think so, anyway. Didn’t look but I found a camera hidden in the doorframe. I took out the ones with your name on.”

“You - you - ?”

“I stole evidence. And destroyed it. They’re gone, Duke. No one will know.”

“Thank you,” Duke whispered, his eyes stinging with tears. Nathan had done this  _ for him.  _ Nathan had gotten hurt  _ because of him.  _

“Made a note of the two most recent names. Found them. Went to see them. They both made statements. Got an arrest warrant. Went to arrest him. And he -”

“And he stabbed you. Fuck, Nate, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t,” Nathan said sharply. “Don’t you dare be sorry. This isn’t on you, Duke. It’s on him. It’s all on him.”

Duke nodded. He could accept that he wasn’t responsible for Nathan getting hurt, but Nathan would never have been in that situation if it hadn’t been for Duke and he needed to take a certain amount of responsibility for that. But if Nathan didn’t want to hear it, he wouldn’t bring it up again. 

“So the charges,” he said, changing the subject, “they’ll stick?”

“Yes. We’ll search the place, get the evidence. There’s enough, Duke. He won’t come after you again.”

“And what about you?”

Nathan laughed bitterly. “I’m probably on camera. He’ll know for sure that I broke in. Probably lose my job. Be lucky if I don’t face criminal charges.”

“Fuck, Nate.”

“Worth it. So fucking worth it.”

Duke shook his head. “I can’t believe you did that. I - I need -”

“Ah, Chief Wuornos,” Dr. Grey said when she came in. “Jamal said you were awake. How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Nathan said; snapped, really.

“Good. Not too sore?”

“No.”

“Tired?”

“Yes.”

“Then you should be resting.” Dr. Grey looked pointedly at Duke and tilted her head towards the door.

Duke flicked his eyebrows, folded his arms across his chest and lifted his chin in a defiant gesture that clearly said  _ make me.  _

She rolled her eyes. “ _ Rest.  _ I mean it. I’ll get a nurse in to sedate you if there’s any more talking coming from in here.”

“I’ll make sure he rests,” Duke promised. Whatever else he might want to know or say would have to wait. Nathan getting better was more important.

“Good,” Dr. Grey said briskly. “We don’t know each other, Chief Wuornos, but let me assure you that I’m just as bossy and cranky as Drs. Verrano and Carr.”

“Noted,” Nathan said, attempting to look contrite. “I’ll rest.”

“Make sure you do.” Dr. Grey made a note on Nathan’s chart and left as suddenly as she’d arrived.

“Ok, I am  _ not  _ arguing with her,” Duke said. “She’s  _ terrifying.”  _

“Neither am I, and yes she is.” Nathan lay back down and closed his eyes. He really did look tired, which wasn’t even remotely surprising.

Another pang of guilt ran through Duke. “Just rest, Nate,” he said softly. 

“You’ll stay?”

“Right here. Not going anywhere.”

“Thanks, Duke.” Nathan’s voice faded with the last word.

Duke tucked the sheet and blanket around him, making sure Nathan was warm enough, and sat back down in the chair, his feet up on the edge of Nathan’s bed.

He still had more questions. A lot of questions. A whole  _ hell  _ of a lot of questions. 

Like -  _ why the fuck did you do this? _

Like -  _ am I safe? _

Like -  _ are  _ you  _ safe?  _

Nathan had, apparently, broken into Pete's apartment, stolen evidence that involved Duke, and possibly fabricated evidence to charge him with. And he'd done it  _ for Duke.  _ He'd put his job on the line  _ for Duke.  _ He'd risked everything  _ for Duke.  _

As he sat and watched Nathan, Duke couldn't stop a single tear from escaping and rolling down his cheek. All that and he  _ still  _ hadn't been able to tell Nathan how he felt.

Tomorrow.

Definitely tomorrow.

He reached out, took hold of Nathan’s hand again and, once he was sure Nathan was definitely asleep, whispered the three little words he'd been wanting to say for so long.

“I love you.”


	19. Nathan

_ Duke.  _

Nathan's first thought on waking was Duke. Was he safe? Were they both safe?

It took his brain a moment to catch up, to remember what had happened and where he was. 

Hospital. Duke had been here. Duke was fine.

He went to run his hand across his eyes, to wipe the sleep away and try to wake up a bit, but his hand didn't move and the lack of movement was accompanied by a sleepy, disgruntled sound.

Nathan smiled. Duke  _ had  _ been here. He still  _ was  _ here. He’d stayed while Nathan slept, kept hold of his hand. Apparently he’d done so all night; he was asleep in the chair, stretched out with his feet up on the edge of Nathan’s bed.

He'd stayed and he'd slept and he'd held Nathan's hand and there were a hundred things Nathan wanted to say but all that came out was a croaky, "Hey."

"Hey," Duke mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "Want some water?"

Nathan nodded. His throat was too dry to form proper words. He took a sip of the water Duke poured him, then another one.

Duke sat down in the chair again. "How are you feeling?"

"'m ok," Nathan said, not entirely sure that was really true. He'd been stabbed and he had no idea how he was supposed to feel but he felt better than he had when he was lying on the ground, feeling the life slowly draining out of him, so he thought that  _ ok  _ was a pretty fair answer.

"Need anything?"

"No, thanks." Nathan paused. "Duke, have you slept?"

"Uh, yeah. I was asleep just now, remember?"

"And was that sleeping or dozing?"

"Uh…" Duke scratched the back of his neck in the way that he did when he didn't want to answer the question.

"Right." Nathan couldn't help smiling smugly.

"I'm sorry, was there - was there a point to all this?"

"Yes."

"And would you like to tell me what, exactly, the point is?"

"The point is - you need to go home and get some rest."

"You don't want me here?" Duke sounded hurt. Very hurt.

"Not that," Nathan said softly. "Thought you could pick some stuff up for me. Gonna be here a few days, could do with some stuff."

"Yeah, no, sure, I can do that."

"Thanks. Pyjamas, toiletries, couple of books."

Duke nodded and grabbed Nathan's keys from the cabinet beside the bed. "Anything else?"

"Coffee. Good coffee."

"Ok. I'll be back soon."

"No, you won't. Four hours, Duke. Don't want to see you back here til lunchtime."

"...What?"

"Go home. Sleep. At least two hours. Grab my stuff and come back at lunchtime."

"Am I allowed to bring you lunch?"

"Lunch with coffee would be great."

Duke sighed. "You drive a hard bargain, you know that?"

Nathan grinned. "I do know that."

"Dick," Duke said, though he said it affectionately, with a little smile, and leaned down to kiss Nathan's cheek. "See you later."

And then he was gone.

Nathan watched him go. He smiled and took a moment to appreciate the one good thing in his life. Things with Duke were ok. Good, even. He’d been expecting Duke to walk out once Nathan had told him what he’d done. But he hadn’t. He’d stayed. All night. They still needed to talk more - about Pete, about what Nathan had done, but also about  _ them  _ and what their future might look like.

_ Their future.  _

He still couldn’t quite believe it. His future included Duke for the first time since they’d been kids with wide eyed dreams of travelling the world. Duke had done it. He’d left Nathan behind and experienced the world in a way Nathan could still only dream of. It still stung, even now that he knew why Duke had left.

But he could put that behind him. Things with Duke were good. He was happy.

Shame about the rest of his life.

He’d be lucky to avoid jail, let alone keep his job, and then there was his father’s disapproval to worry about. That was going to be bad. Really bad.

Although nothing the Chief could say would be a patch on what Nathan was saying to himself. 

He was a dirty cop. He’d become everything he despised about the profession. There was a certain irony that he’d been stabbed by the very person he’d set up. Really, it was the least he deserved.

And at least Pete Walker wouldn’t get away with  _ that.  _ No matter what happened with the sexual assault allegations, there was no way in hell anyone would let him go after stabbing a cop. 

Even a corrupt one.

Maybe there were wide eyed dreams of travelling the world in his future after all. He wouldn’t have anything else to do once he was fired.

He could sail the world. See different places. Meet different people. Get away from Haven, and from his father, and experience it all with Duke by his side.

He dozed off thinking about all the places they might go and very deliberately didn’t think about the possibility that the only place he might be going was prison.

His dreams were filled with a hundred different scenes and in each one, Duke was beside him, warm and solid and comforting. They sailed the ocean, made love on the deck of the ship, their pleasure rising and falling with the rhythm of the waves. They slept in the desert under a blanket of stars. They hiked in the forest and crossed rivers and climbed to the top of the tallest mountain. They got lost in the bright lights and anonymity of the city; dined at the top of the world’s highest skyscraper. They watched the sun rise and set and rise again, each change of light more beautiful than the last. And finally, they tumbled into bed, too exhausted to do anything but sleep.

He was woken by someone shaking his shoulder and, still deep in his dream, he sleepily mumbled, “Duke?”

“What’s that, son?”

Oh. Not Duke. Nathan opened his eyes and his worst fears were confirmed.

“Chief.”

“I think you can call me  _ Dad,  _ Nathan, I haven’t been Chief for two years.”

“Yeah, sorry, I…” Nathan trailed off.

Garland nodded. “Got you on the heavy stuff, have they?”

“Something like that,” Nathan mumbled, seizing the excuse to get himself out of trouble.

“That why you were asking for Crocker?”

_ Damn.  _ That hadn’t worked too well.

“No.” 

Garland frowned. “He bothering you again, son?”

“No!” Nathan pulled the blankets up to his chin. 

He was injured, lying in a hospital bed with his father towering over him. It was just like the time he’d broken his arm in a sledding accident when he was a kid and Duke had carried him to the hospital.

His father had towered over him then, too. He’d demanded to know how Nathan knew the Crocker kid. No amount of repetitions of  _ ‘I don’t know him, he’s a kid at my school, I only met him today’  _ had convinced the Chief that they weren’t friends. 

No amount of repetitions of  _ ‘he’s not bothering me, I love him’  _ wouldn’t convince the Chief of anything now either.

It wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with his father at any point but especially not  _ now.  _ Not like this. Not while he was hurt and vulnerable and felt like a scolded kid.

“I can step in -”

“No!”

“Ok, ok.” Garland raised his hands in surrender and sat down.

Nathan breathed a small sigh of relief and winced as he picked up his phone. He sent a quick text to Duke -  _ Chief’s here, don’t come back -  _ and put it down again, lay back and closed his eyes. Maybe he could get away with pretending to be asleep.

“Good job I came back early,” Garland said gruffly.

_ Oh.  _ No such luck. Nathan opened his eyes again. “Why did you?”

“Fish weren’t biting.”

“How’d you know I was here?”

“Missed calls from Hendrickson, called him back as soon as I saw them.”

“What did he say?”

“That you’d gone to arrest a perp who stabbed you.”

Nathan nodded. Good. That was good. That meant that either Dwight didn’t know what he’d done or he was keeping it to himself. Whichever it was, that meant that he didn’t have to face the Chief’s wrath just yet. He’d have to eventually. But not having that conversation while he was lying in bed, unable to defend himself…

That would be better. Probably.

“Surprised he got the drop on you.”

“Yeah.”

“How did he?”

“I don’t  _ know,  _ Dad,” Nathan snapped.

Garland glared at him.

Nathan shrank in on himself, an apology on his lips.

One he didn’t get a chance to say because the door opened and Duke strode in.

“I’ve got your-” he stopped in his tracks when he saw Garland “-stuff,” he finished, quietly.

“You didn’t get my text?”

Duke put the bag down and pulled out his phone. “No, no I did not. I should -” he gestured towards the door.

“Stay,” Nathan said quietly, acutely aware of his father’s eyes boring into him.

Duke nodded and sat down, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else but here. 

Nathan couldn’t blame him. He felt much the same way. He hated hospitals anyway, they reminded him of when his mom was sick and that awful day he’d been sent home, to sit alone for hours before his father got home and told him that she died. He’d run away, then, gone to find Duke and cried on his shoulder. He wanted to run now, too.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Garland snarled, turning his glare towards Duke.

“Uh…”

“He’s visiting me. He picked up some stuff.”

Garland snapped his gaze back towards Nathan. “What the hell? Are you two friends again?”

It took all of Nathan’s strength not to wither and curl in on himself. No. He wasn’t doing that. He wouldn’t deny what he had with Duke. Duke deserved better. 

“No,” he said, meeting his father’s eyes. “Not friends. We’re together.”

In the heartbeat that followed, Duke held his breath and the atmosphere in the room thickened unbearably.

“A Crocker?” Garland said, in that quiet way that meant trouble. “Thought I taught you better than that.”

“No,” Nathan said, struggling into a sitting position. His father was being  _ judgy,  _ and he was  _ not  _ prepared to be judged. Not here. Not now. 

“No?”

“No,” Nathan repeated.

“Nate,” Duke said quietly. “Don’t. It’s not worth it.”

Nathan knew what he meant. He didn’t mean  _ it’s  _ not worth it, he meant  _ I’m  _ not worth it.  _ Fuck that.  _ Duke was worth the  _ world  _ and he didn’t care who knew it. And, perhaps more to the point, it was long past time he stood up to his father. Most people had a teenage rebellion phase but Nathan had missed that, too caught up in grief for his mom that he hadn’t been allowed to feel, so now, apparently, he was having an almost-40-rebellion instead.

“Don’t you tell my son what to do, Crocker, or I’ll-”

“You’ll  _ what,  _ Chief?” Nathan snapped. “Arrest him for something he didn’t do again?”

“I never-”

“Yes, you did! I’ve seen his file and 90 percent of it is bullshit! Trumped up charges, a sentence that wasn’t in line with his crime, unnecessary arrests. You  _ persecuted  _ him for years and I won’t let you keep doing it now.”

“I didn’t persecute him!” Garland spat out. “He’s a piece of shit, just like his father!”

“How dare you?! How dare you even think that, let alone say it right in front of him?!” Nathan was acutely and uncomfortably aware that he had done exactly the same in the past. And probably worse. Duke should never have forgiven him for some of the (most of the) things he’d said.

“He stole, smuggled, sold -”

“He did what he had to do to survive! But you never saw that, did you?”

Garland snorted. “Survive? He was a kid. Kids don’t need to do that stuff to survive, they -”

“I did,” Duke interrupted quietly. He was staring down, eyes fixed on the floor, and looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Oh, you’ve been brainwashing him, haven’t you?” Garland snapped. “I get it now.”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “No, he hasn’t. He told me the truth I was too blind to see.”

“What damn truth?!”

“That isn’t my story to tell.”

Garland turned to Duke. “What truth?”

Duke slowly raised his head to meet Garland’s eyes. He looked as though that tiny movement cost him  _ everything.  _ “I was a scared, starving kid. I stole food, you arrested me for it. I stole stuff to sell, you arrested me for it. I sold bootleg liquor, you arrested me for it. Everything I tried to do to get food, money for bills, you arrested me for.”

Nathan’s heart was lodged high in his throat. He hated that Duke had to explain that, hated that he’d been through that, hated that he’d been put on the spot and forced to defend himself because Nathan hadn’t been able to do it for him.

“But why? You were with your mother. I made sure of that. You were safe.”

“Yeah, not so much.”

The atmosphere in the room was thick, charged like a brewing thunderstorm. Nathan wasn’t sure which of them would snap first. He wasn’t sure if it would be him. 

His father was silent, studying Duke in the way that Nathan knew so well from when he’d watched him eyeing up a suspect, trying to decide if they were lying or not. It was much the same impassive expression as Nathan knew he wore in the same situation. 

Duke was staring right back at him, his chin tilted up in a silent challenge that Nathan recognised as his  _ I’m one wrong word away from snapping  _ look. He was proud of him. Duke would probably rather run a million miles away from this conversation but he was staying. He wasn’t leaving. He was digging his heels in and -

He was doing it for  _ Nathan.  _

He needed to say something, to defuse the electric situation, to make peace and stop it before it went any further.

Before he could, though, Garland leaned forwards. “I tried,” he said, and he still sounded defensive, but  _ less  _ so. “I tried.”

“It wasn’t enough, dad,” Nathan said quietly. “Whatever you did, it wasn’t enough. Duke fell through the cracks.”

“I did what I could. Could see you going the same way as your father. Tried to scare you straight. Made sure you were with your mom, thought that would be ok. I didn’t know you weren’t being taken care of, thought you were a troublemaker.”

“He wasn’t!”

Garland raised his hand in a placating gesture that just made Nathan angrier. “I didn’t know. I did what I could and when that didn’t work, all I could do was try to protect my son.”

“I didn’t need protecting! Not from Duke! He was my best friend. I  _ needed him  _ after mom died and you took that away from me!”

“I was scared he’d get you into trouble or take advantage of you. I thought I was doing what was best.”

Nathan shook his head. He didn’t accept that -  _ couldn’t  _ accept that. His father should have done more, should have dug deeper, asked questions, found out what was really going on. Not written off a scared kid as a troublemaker.

“Nate, it’s ok,” Duke said softly, and took hold of his hand. 

“It’s  _ not.  _ It’s not ok.”

“Ok, maybe it isn’t but maybe now isn’t the time to be talking about it.”

He was right. He was absolutely right. Now  _ wasn’t  _ the time to be talking about all this stuff. 

Nathan closed his eyes, took a deep breath and lifted his head. “Dad, can you leave, please.”

It wasn’t a question and Garland’s expression was one of pure shock. Nathan should definitely have stood up to him before now. Maybe it was a few years too late but he was  _ done  _ taking any bullshit and bullying from his father.

“No, I’m-” Garland started.

“You’re leaving,” Nathan snapped. “Right now.”

Garland stared at him for a moment longer before he stood up and went over to the door. He hesitated there, then turned around. “Duke, I’m sorry. If I’d known, I’d have done things differently. Can’t change the past, but I’m sorry. You deserve to hear that.” He swept out of the room before either of them could answer.

“Fuck,” Duke said shakily, still holding Nathan’s hand.

“Are you -” 

“Fuck, I love you,” Duke blurted out, interrupting Nathan mid-sentence.

Nathan stared at him, well aware that his mouth was hanging open. He closed it with a snap but continued staring at Duke, trying to get a read on him.

Which wasn’t so easy. 

He was half convinced Duke would laugh, make a wisecrack and pretend he’d been joking, but he didn’t. He just stared right back at Nathan. When Duke didn’t immediately laugh, Nathan thought he might take it back, might make some sort of excuse about how he didn’t mean it, or he didn’t mean it  _ like that.  _ But no. He didn’t say anything else at all, he just left it hanging there.

Duke didn’t say things he didn’t mean. Every word that came out of his mouth was carefully constructed, controlled, judged to convey exactly what he meant. 

So. Duke meant it. The silence had gone on too long. If he hadn’t meant it, he’d have said something by now.

Duke loved him.

Duke who was so strong and gentle and caring and stood up for other people more than he ever stood up for himself. Duke, who fought so hard not to lose himself. Duke, who Nathan was so proud of. Duke, who he’d treated so badly for so long, had not only found it within himself to forgive Nathan, but to  _ love him.  _

Nathan wasn’t even remotely worthy of Duke’s love, but he would spend the rest of his life trying to be the man that Duke seemed to think he was.


	20. Duke

Silence. Silence was not good. Nathan was just staring at him, his mouth open and  _ fuck,  _ had he really just said that?

Why? Why did he say that? He  _ never  _ blurted things out like that. He meant it, he’d wanted to say it for months now, but he’d never planned it to be  _ like this.  _ He’d wanted it to be soft, sweetly said, built up to, not just thrown out in that stupid, offhand manner. He’d had  _ plans.  _ He knew exactly what he wanted to say, he’d run through it a hundred times in his mind, along with all the possible responses from Nathan. 

He hadn’t had any idea how Nathan might react, whether he’d be angry or sad or awkward. But he definitely hadn’t been expecting  _ this.  _ This stunned silence and shocked expression.

_ Fuck.  _

He couldn’t take it back now. He didn’t  _ want  _ to take it back. He just wished he could go back and say it again properly.

Except he couldn’t. Obviously.

God this silence was dragging on and he fucked up, he really fucked up, and -

“I love you too,” Nathan said quietly, a little, soft smile on his lips.

Then it was Duke’s turn to stare at him. “You do?” he said after a moment.

“Yeah.”

“Ok, that’s - that - “ Duke trailed off, unable to articulate exactly  _ what  _ that was. Amazing. Incredible. He laughed softly. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“So are we really doing this, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you say anything other than  _ yeah?”  _

“Yeah.” Nathan was grinning now, teasing, playing.

Duke relaxed. They should probably still talk, work out exactly what  _ this  _ was, but that could wait. Nathan loved him. That was all that mattered.

“You should rest.”

Nathan shook his head. “Not yet. Duke, I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“My father.”

“No, no, Nate, that was - you were amazing. The way you stood up for me. You don’t have to apologise.” 

“‘s’not amazing. Should’ve done it a long time ago.”

This time it was Duke’s turn to shake his head. “No,” he said fiercely. “It was amazing.”

And it had been. Truly amazing, in fact.

Nathan had gone up against his father the moment he’d started badmouthing Duke. He’d told his father that they were  _ together,  _ which they hadn’t even discussed between themselves, let alone told friends who would find the news somewhat less controversial. He’d  _ admitted  _ it. Duke had to wonder if the Chief even knew Nathan liked men, whether that was also Nathan coming out. He wouldn’t ask, though. That was Nathan’s business, he’d tell Duke if he wanted him to know. The Chief hadn’t seemed particularly surprised by anything other than the fact he was with  _ Duke  _ so either Nathan had told him before or he knew anyway.

It wasn’t even just the stuff with his father. Nathan had gone after Pete, put his job at risk and damn near died protecting Duke. He’d risked  _ everything.  _ Duke didn’t have all of the details yet but it sounded like the investigation had been more than a little shady; he’d broken in, stolen evidence. If anyone found out, he’d probably get away without criminal charges but there was no way he’d keep his job.

Duke felt like he’d been suckerpunched as he was struck by the magnitude of what Nathan had done.

Nathan was prioritising Duke; his relationship with Duke, over every other tie he had. He hadn’t just fitted Duke into his existing life, he had made Duke his number one priority, above all else.

When Nathan said  _ I love you too,  _ there had been no doubt in Duke’s mind that he meant it.

He reached out, gently took hold of Nathan’s hand again. “It was amazing. You’re amazing. I love you, Nate.”

Nathan smiled and squeezed his hand. “I love you too, Duke.”

*

Duke spent the next three days beside Nathan’s bed. He only left to collect food for them both and to have a quick shower. 

Gloria had found him curled up asleep on the floor - something Nathan had loudly objected to but hadn’t been able to persuade him to do otherwise - and insisted a second bed be brought in. Duke had immediately moved it so it was right beside Nathan’s bed and would only sleep if he had his arm stretched out and his hand resting somewhere on Nathan.

It was strange, really. The last few days had been both the best and the worst of his life. The heartstopping moment when he thought Nathan had died. The agonising hours of waiting. The discussion with the Chief and having to explain more about his past than he’d really wanted to. The apology. From the Chief. The Chief apologised to him. That had been more than Duke could really comprehend, and he still wasn’t entirely sure he’d taken it in. He was fairly sure he was going to spend a week meditating and processing that at some point.

And then there had been the  _ I love you’s.  _

Nathan loved him. That’s what Duke focussed on as he sat (or lay) beside Nathan’s bed. Nathan loved him. He was loved. For the first time in his life, he was  _ loved.  _

And he was - present circumstances aside -  _ happy.  _

Finally, Dr. Grey had pronounced Nathan fit enough to go home, as long as he had someone to keep an eye on him, and as long as he promised not to do too much - by which she meant, anything at all.

After much discussion, Duke had taken Nathan home to the Rouge. It wasn’t any more practical than Nathan’s house was, but it  _ was  _ easier to defend so if Pete made bail, it was safer.

That was his main priority. Keeping Nathan safe. The same way that Nathan had kept  _ him  _ safe.

He helped Nathan aboard the Rouge and into the bedroom where Nathan lay down, stifling a groan of pain as he did so.

“Are you  _ sure  _ you’re ok to be out of hospital?”

Nathan nodded. “Very sure.”

“I know you didn’t want to be there, but…”

“Duke, I’m sure.”

They’d talked about it while Nathan had been lying in the hospital bed. About how he hated hospitals and why. Nathan had steadily grown more fractious the longer he was kept there. Duke understood, he really did, but that didn’t stop him from worrying that Nathan was pushing to leave sooner than was good for him.

“Ok,” Duke said after a moment of staring at Nathan who was now (semi)comfortably settled in his bed.

In  _ his  _ bed. He’d agreed to come home with Duke and to let Duke take care of him and they were really  _ doing this,  _ they were really trying this whole relationship thing. It was wonderful and terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“Ok,” he said again. “Do you need anything? Painkillers? Water?”

Nathan managed not to roll his eyes, a fact for which Duke thought he probably deserved a medal because he was well aware that he was  _ fussing.  _

“Water, painkillers, something to do.”

“TV or book? Or cards? Poker?”

“TV? State I’m in, you’ll kick my ass at poker.”

“Wasn’t suggesting playing for money.” Duke grinned. “I’ll grab my laptop, we can watch something on Netflix?”

“Perfect.”

Duke dashed out, relieved that Nathan wasn’t arguing about being fussed over. He wanted to be allowed to fuss. Fussing was good. When someone you love nearly died, you were allowed to fuss. And he fully intended to do as much of it as Nathan would tolerate.

He dashed back a minute later with his laptop. “Password’s  _ ParanoidPirate,  _ both p’s capitalised, 4’s instead of a’s, 1’s instead of i’s. Netflix should log on automatically. Choose whatever you want. I’ll grab the other stuff and be right back. Want something to eat?”

“Ok. Thanks. And no, thanks.”

“Ok.” Duke grinned. 

He raced out to collect Nathan’s bag from the truck, deposited it beside the bed, then ran out and came back again with glasses of water and a bottle of painkillers. He handed them to Nathan, dashed out yet again and this time returned with a packet of chips and a large bar of chocolate. 

“Movie snacks,” he explained, kicking his shoes off.

“You know we’ll get crumbs in the bed.”

“Hmm. Don’t care.” Duke sat down beside Nathan. “What did you find to watch?”

Nathan grinned. “Ghostbusters.”

Duke laughed softly. “Like when we were kids.”

“Exactly.” Nathan started the movie playing while Duke opened the chips, and they settled down to watch.

*

Barely twenty four hours passed before Duke got a text from Dwight, asking if Nathan was up to visitors so he could give them an update on the case. Duke’s instinct was to say  _ no,  _ to protect Nathan from having to deal with it, but Nathan had already done the difficult part of making a statement while he was in hospital. This was just an update. 

So he checked with Nathan who just nodded and said, “sure”, then sent Dwight a text in the affirmative. He actually used that word and was very amused with himself for using police speak, which made Nathan roll his eyes.

A little while later, Nathan was comfortably settled on the couch. He refused to spend yet another day in bed. Duke had argued the point - valiantly, he thought - that Dr. Grey had said  _ rest  _ and that meant  _ bed rest  _ but he knew he was fighting a losing battle and then Nathan had made an adorable pouty face with puppy dog eyes and he abandoned the argument and helped Nathan to the couch instead. Really, it was probably better. He didn’t particularly want Dwight in his bedroom and Nathan would be more relaxed out here, sitting up, than he would be if he was lying in bed.

Duke had just made coffee when he heard Dwight’s truck pull up on the dock outside. He jumped up and opened the hatch, trying to ignore the sick feeling that ran through him because the last time Dwight had been here - 

He didn’t want to think about that.

“Morning,” Dwight greeted him, holding out a bag of pastries from Rosemary’s.

“Morning. Thanks.” Duke took the bag and closed the hatch behind Dwight. “Coffee?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Duke disappeared over to the kitchen and listened as Dwight and Nathan went through the obligatory “how are you” conversation. They’d just about wrapped up when Duke handed Dwight his coffee and gestured for him to sit.

Dwight did so and cleared his throat. “Ok, so, we’re charging Pete Walker with attempted murder, which I’m sure you’ve already guessed we would. Judge Boone denied bail so he’s in lock up until the trial which will probably be some time next year.”

Nathan visibly relaxed.

Duke squeezed his hand. “Ok, that’s good, thank you.”

“It should be an open and shut case. His prints are on the knife, he was present at the scene, and he hasn’t tried to claim that he was handcuffed in your truck when someone else stabbed you, or any such bullshit. His defense attorney might pull something like that, so something for you to be aware of.”

“And is that likely to sway a jury?” Duke asked.

Dwight snorted. “Doubtful. The prosecutor is pushing for the trial to happen in Haven. No one’s gonna take his word over Nate’s.” He paused and went on. “The charges you arrested him on…”

Nathan tensed up again but didn’t say anything.

“We dropped them,” Dwight said. “Attempted murder is easier to prove and I don’t want to muddy the waters by bringing up the other stuff. Especially when one of the techs found some interesting camera footage.” He looked pointedly at Nathan.

Nathan blushed bright red and stammered awkwardly.

Dwight let him stew for a minute. “Footage which has mysteriously disappeared,” he relented.

“Wh - wh -” Nathan started.

Duke squeezed his hand again. “Thank you,” he said to Dwight. “We appreciate that.”

“You both owe me a month’s worth of babysitting duties and the tech wants a two week vacation.”

Duke squawked. “That’s  _ bribery!”  _

Dwight raised his eyebrows. “Yes, it is. Problem?”

“Nope. No problem at all.”

“Good.”

“So that’s it?” Nathan said quietly. “It’s over? Apart from the trial, it’s over?”

“Nothing’s gonna come out and bite you on the ass. Unless there’s anything I don’t know about.”

“No, I think - I took some flash drives from the desk drawer. I destroyed them. I don’t know what was on them. Exactly. I don’t know exactly what was on them.” Nathan’s voice got quieter and quieter.

Duke leaned into him, gently bumped his shoulder. “I was on them,” he said. “And assuming you’ve looked at the other flash drives, you’ll have a fair idea of the content.”

Dwight pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ok, fine. That won’t be an issue seeing as they were never logged into evidence. And Walker hasn’t been back to the apartment so he won’t know. This conversation never happened. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“This is why you did all that? To protect Duke?” Dwight asked.

Nathan just nodded.

Dwight nodded too. “Ok. Good. I’m relieved to hear that, to be honest, because I know you, Nate, you’re a good cop and a good Chief and you’re sure as hell not dirty but what you did...it had me questioning everything I knew about you.”

“It was a one time thing,” Duke said. “And just so you know, I didn’t know about it until after Nate woke up at the hospital.”

“Didn’t think you did. On the subject of you, I had a request from the old Chief to get your records sealed. He said he couldn’t change the past but he could make sure it didn’t have any further impact on your future. Judge Boone sealed them this morning.”

Duke stared at him, well aware that his mouth was hanging open. “Ch- the Chief did that?”

“Yes. And looked very awkward about it, I might add.”

“Wow, that’s - that’s -” Duke trailed off.

“That’s good news, Dwight, thank you,” Nathan finished for him.

Dwight nodded. “Past time, if you ask me.” He drained the last of his coffee and stood up. “Right, I’ll leave you to rest. Call if you need anything.”

“Will do,” Nathan said. “Thanks, Dwight. For everything.”

“Don’t mention it,” Dwight said gruffly. “Get better and get back to work, I’m not enjoying being stand-in Chief. There’s paperwork.”

“Too much paperwork,” Nathan said ruefully.

“Glad to see you two have pulled your heads out of your asses. You’re good together.” It was Dwight’s parting shot; he disappeared back out of the hatch without another word.

Duke locked the hatch behind him and went back to sit on the couch beside Nathan. “You ok?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

To his credit, Duke managed not to snort at that; he nodded and tried a different tack. “Sounds like Dwight’s got everything under control.”

“Yeah,” Nathan said quietly.

Duke nodded again. This conversation was going nowhere. Putting pressure on Nathan when he didn’t want to talk about something would lead to an argument that Duke didn’t particularly want to have, especially when Nathan couldn’t easily walk away. So instead, he turned on the television, started a show playing, and lay down on the couch with his head in Nathan’s lap, just because he could  _ do that  _ now.

Besides, he had to process all of this stuff too, so lying in silence was a-ok with him.

“It’s over,” Nathan said after a while, gently stroking through Duke’s hair.

“Yeah,” Duke said quietly. He absolutely wasn’t pushing his head against Nathan’s hand like a cat demanding to be petted. Nope. He wasn’t.

“For you. It’s over.”

“Yeah,” Duke said again.

“Your past is behind you. That asshole can never get his hands on you again.”

“All thanks to you.”

“I didn’t -”

“Nathaniel Wuornos,” Duke said, sitting up. “If you  _ dare  _ to tell me you didn’t do much, I swear to  _ god  _ I will - I will - kiss you until you shut up.”

Nathan smirked at him. Actually smirked. “I didn’t do much.”

Duke rolled his eyes and kissed him.

“I didn’t -”

Duke kissed him again.

“I-”

And again.

“Really-”

And again, and this time he didn’t stop, and afterwards, Nathan didn’t say anything, just smiled at him with that little soft smile.

“You just did that to get me to kiss you, didn’t you?”

“Yup.”

“You could’ve just said  _ Duke, kiss me.”  _

“Would’ve been less fun.”

“Asshole.” Duke kissed him again, rested his hand on Nathan’s jaw and scraped his thumb across the rough stubble. “Thank you,” he said afterwards.

“You’re welcome.” Nathan looked uncomfortable, awkward almost.

Maybe Duke should drop it but he couldn’t. He couldn’t just leave it at that.

“No, really.  _ Thank you.  _ Everything you’ve done over the past year, don’t - don’t underestimate it. You’ve done a lot for me, even before this, and I want you to know I appreciate it. A lot. A lot a lot. You helped me when I needed it most - don’t argue, I was closer to the edge than I ever would’ve admitted, and you were there, you gave me what I needed to work through it. You accepted me and cared about me and showed me I was worth more than I thought and ok, there are some days I’m still not entirely convinced about that but I’m a lot closer to believing it than I ever have been before and that’s down to you.”

“Believe it,” Nathan said. “Because I think you’re pretty fucking awesome.”

“And I think you are too. Like, everything you’ve done makes you pretty fucking awesome in my book but then this whole thing with Pete...I know what you risked to do that. I know what you were prepared to give up because you thought it was the right thing to do but -”

“It  _ was  _ the right thing to do,” Nathan interrupted.

Duke shook his head vehemently. “No. Putting your job on the line like that, risking your  _ life  _ like that, it was too much, Nate. I appreciate it so, so much but don’t  _ ever  _ do that again.”

“Duke, I love you. You were looking over your shoulder every single minute of your life. I can’t change the past. I can’t track down every mobster you pissed off. But I  _ could  _ take down Pete fucking Walker so I did. It was the one tiny thing I could do to make things right.”

Tears stung Duke’s eyes and he shook his head again. “It wasn’t tiny. It was huge. But you nearly fucking died and I don’t - I can’t lose you. Please don’t ever do that again.”

Nathan stroked his hair, as gentle as could be. “Not planning on any more dirty investigations.”

“Can you - can you wear a vest? Like Dwight does?”

“I will do that, any time I think there’s any risk.”

“Did you think Pete was a risk?”

Nathan hesitated. “No. I thought he’d crumble as soon as he knew the game was up. I underestimated what he’d do to protect himself.”

“So can you -”

“I will wear a vest any time I’m arresting someone, and for traffic stops, and any time there’s even a chance I’ll get hurt.”

Duke nodded. That would do. “And can you text -”

“I’ll check in with you through the day but honestly, most of my job is paperwork and sucking up to the mayor and Judge Boone.”

“Ok. Thank you. I just - I don’t ever want to see you like that again.”

Nathan’s lips were soft, so soft, against Duke’s forehead as he pressed a gentle kiss there. “I won’t make a promise I can’t keep but I promise to do everything I can to make sure that nothing like that ever happens again. Ok?”

Duke let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, ok. Thanks.”

Nathan kissed his forehead again. “My dad text me earlier, wanted to know if he could come see me.”

“What did you say?”

“I haven’t replied yet. Wanted to check with you first. He won’t stay long.”

Duke nodded. He wasn’t  _ entirely  _ sure he wanted the Chief on his boat but if he and Nathan were doing this whole  _ relationship  _ thing, then he should probably learn to play nicely with him. “Yeah, sure. This afternoon?”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Thanks, Duke,” Nathan said softly and kissed him again.

“Thanks for standing up to him that day. I know how hard that was for you.”

“It wasn’t. Should’ve done it a long time ago. Maybe he’ll stop trying to control me now.”

“I hope so.”

Nathan nodded, stayed silent for a moment, then said, “Thanks. I couldn’t have done that without you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You were there, you gave me the courage to say what I said to him.”

Duke nodded. “I’ll always be there, Nate. Always.”

Nathan smiled and kissed him again, pushed Duke back down so his head was in Nathan’s lap again. “Stay,” he said. “I like stroking your hair.”

“Coincidence,” Duke said, pushing his head into Nathan’s hand. “I like you stroking my hair.”


	21. Duke - The epilogue

“Cock,” Duke said as he put down a tray on the bedside cabinet.

“Uh?” Nathan looked baffled. Understandably so.

“Cock.”

“Is that an insult or a request?”

“Four down,” Duke said, tapping the newspaper. “‘Prepare to shoot male.’ The answer’s cock.”

“Oh.” Nathan wrote it in, then put the paper down.

Duke passed him a mug of coffee (his own special blend, of course) and a croissant (freshly baked this morning, of course). 

Lie ins like this were rare. Usually one or the other of them was up and about early. Either Nathan was working, or Duke needed to be at the Gull and wanted to get his usual run and yoga practice in.

A year had passed since the evening that Dwight had turned up and told Duke that Nathan was hurt. 

The trial was over, Pete Walker had been jailed for a life term, the sentence handed down by Judge Boone, and both Nathan and Duke could breathe again and get on with their lives.

Lives which now revolved around each other. 

Nathan had stayed on the Rouge to recover and had simply never left. Gradually, more and more of his stuff had appeared; clothes and toiletries and books, then some old Firefly DVDs that they wanted to watch together. They didn’t ever have a discussion about it, it just sort of happened. The more Nathan’s stuff appeared, the more space Duke cleared so he could put it away, and then one evening, Nathan had quietly said that he thought he might rent his house out because he was never there anyway. Duke had agreed that it sounded like a good idea. So Nathan had moved over some much loved pieces of furniture and a painting his mom had done, changed his address details officially and they were living together.

Nathan had stuck to his word about wearing a bulletproof vest. Duke was very grateful. He’d also changed his next of kin details with both the station and the hospital so if anything happened, Duke would be notified straight away. That meant that Duke would be responsible for telling Garland if anything happened but they’d reached a state of armed neutrality instead of outright hostility so Duke was fairly sure he could handle that if it came to it.

Mostly he hoped it wouldn’t.

They slept beside each other every night. Nathan sprawled on his back, snoring. Duke on his side, tucked against Nathan, not snoring (unless he’d drunk red wine). Most mornings, they woke up together too, early starts notwithstanding. But leisurely Sunday mornings like this were unusual enough that Duke relished every single one.

Coffee, croissants, crosswords. Then maybe a nap, a shower, a walk along the beach or a hike in the woods, or a trip up to Derry to nose around the antiques shops and goodwill stores in search of pieces that needed to be restored. 

Finding out that Nathan liked restoring old furniture and applying decoupage to turn them into works of art had been something of a revelation to Duke who hadn’t actually been sure that Nathan had any hobbies. But he liked helping. He liked picking up old, battered pieces that had seen better days and helping Nathan sand them back and repair them, and watching Nathan turn them into something beautiful again. Some, they kept. Others were gifted to friends. So far, Nathan was resisting selling them but Duke kept trying to persuade him that he really should because they were  _ art.  _

And, of course, there was sex. Lots of sex. Sometimes it was slow, leisurely, tender sex that Duke would call lovemaking if he didn’t detest the term on general principle. Sometimes it was fast and hard; the bent over the kitchen counter, over in two minutes sort of sex. And sometimes it could only be accurately described as kinky sex. Just how it had all started. Whips and ropes and belts and control and being dominated until there was no other thought in his head except  _ Nathan.  _

Which, as it happened, was exactly what he was in the mood for this morning.

After they’d finished their croissants, drunk their coffee, and completed the crossword. With two of them working on it, it shouldn’t take too long.

“14 across is an anagram,” he said, and watched while Nathan diligently wrote out the letters in a different order.

“Fucks sake,” Nathan muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he filled in the answer as soon as he got it. To be fair, it had been a ridiculous pun on the part of the crossword compiler.

In fact, the whole crossword was full of terrible puns and Duke was on the verge of tearing up the newspaper and tossing it on the floor when Nathan did exactly that.

“I don’t  _ like  _ that compiler,” he said plaintively.

“Hey, no, I’m with you, that was hands down  _ the worst  _ crossword I’ve ever tried to do. It wasn’t even difficult, just stupid and annoying.”

“Exactly.”

So that was the crossword out of the way, and they’d both eaten their croissants with minimal dropping of crumbs in the bed. Duke sipped at his coffee. “I mean, you could always take your anger at the crossword out on me instead of sulking.”

“I am not sulking!”

“You kind of are.”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’m sulking. It was annoying.”

“Mmhmm. I’m annoying too.”

“Not as annoying as that.”

“So I should try harder?”

Nathan laughed. “No. Please do not.”

Duke pouted. “So what do I have to do to piss you off enough that you’ll grab your belt and go to town on my ass?”

“Nothing. Because you know I won’t ever actually punish you and I won’t do it when I’m angry.”

“Fine.” Duke sighed dramatically. “So you mean I’m going to have to be a grown up and actually ask you?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” Another dramatic sigh, then Duke said, sweetly, “Nathan, please can we have some really kinky, dirty sex that will definitely involve your belt on my ass?”

Nathan smirked. “Yes.”

“Are you going to say anything other than yes?”

“Nope.”

Duke rolled his eyes. “Dick.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Thirty seconds later, Duke was very glad that Nathan had joined him in his habit of sleeping naked because it made what came next  _ much  _ easier.

Nathan twisted his fingers into Duke’s hair, sharply pulled his head back and kissed him hard. Just as Duke was getting into it, kissing back, straining against Nathan’s fingers to get closer, Nathan pulled away and shoved his head down.

Which was how Duke found himself on his knees, bent double over Nathan’s already hard cock. He opened his mouth without being asked. He knew his place. He knew what Nathan wanted and he was only too happy to oblige. He started to suck but Nathan was forcing his head down. He couldn’t move. He just had to kneel there and take it, breathing steadily so he didn’t gag as Nathan fucked his mouth, and he had been well and truly shut up. He told Nathan to make him and Nathan made him and oh  _ fuck,  _ his cock was already twitching, just from this; just from breathing in the warm, musky scent of Nathan, tasting the heated flesh and he was  _ lost  _ in it.

Apparently making Duke shut up like that had quite an effect on Nathan because it was over very quickly. 

Nathan waited for Duke to swallow before he yanked his head away. “Drop your pants,” he said, sounding more than a little out of breath, “and pass me my belt.”

Duke stole a glance at Nathan as he obeyed. A light blush of pink on his cheeks was just visible below the three day old stubble. He was gorgeous like that; somehow relaxed in the afterglow of his orgasm yet still keyed up for what was to come. 

He didn’t get much of a chance to look, though. As soon as Duke handed him the belt, Nathan shoved him face first against the wall. He caught himself on his hands, leaned his face against the cool surface, and waited.

_ Crack.  _

Hot, familiar pain flowed through him. He relaxed into the burn and sting of the leather on his skin that made him feel alive, like it validated his existence. He’d lost the desperate need that he’d once had. The desire to punish himself. Now it was just for fun. All about sensation instead of punishment. No negative messages were sinking in and each crack of the belt, each stripe that it left on his skin was proof of the trust and closeness and love that they shared.

Stripes that Nathan ran his hand over, making Duke shiver. “Pretty,” he said, voice low and husky. “Turn around.”

Duke obediently turned around and was immediately pinned against the wall by Nathan’s hips. Another one of those hard, over too soon kisses before Nathan pulled away, wrapped his hand around Duke’s throat and pressed, restricting Duke’s breathing just enough to be  _ exciting.  _

He barely had time to adjust to that before Nathan grasped his cock and jerked him off, hard and fast and oh so good.

“Fuck,” he choked out, his voice rasping under Nathan’s hand. “Fuck, Nate.”

“Mmhmm,” Nathan hummed, his strokes drawing Duke ever closer to the edge.

He was there, right there, right on the brink when Nathan stopped, held still and squeezed the base of his cock. Duke groaned loudly, frustrated, and pushed into Nathan’s hand. It got him precisely nowhere. Nathan just smirked at him and started stroking him again, slow and gentle this time. Duke knew exactly what game Nathan was playing. It was one of their favourites. Nathan liked to see how many times he could get away with this before Duke begged.

Five, this time. Five times, Nathan brought him up to the edge and down again.

Duke’s cock was so hard it hurt; so hard that the slightest touch sent sparks racing to his toes. He begged every time Nathan stopped. Pleas mixed with Nathan’s name and promises and bribes and even threats that Nathan just laughed at until - finally - he choked out a single word.

“Please.”

And then Nathan didn’t stop. He kept stroking him in the rhythm he knew Duke loved. Hard but not too hard. Fast but not too fast. He kept light pressure against Duke’s throat and leaned in to whisper three words.

“Come for me.”

As though on command, Duke spilled into Nathan’s hand with a cry of pleasure that was so loud that it might have been more accurately classed as a scream.

He went limp, afterwards, and let Nathan steer him to the bed. When Nathan pulled him into his arms, Duke snuggled against him, warm and relaxed and fucked out.

“I love you, Nate.”

“I love you too, Duke.”

Duke made a happy sound and closed his eyes to nap. 

He was safe and loved. 

He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was inspired by the Buddy Wakefield poem, [We Were Emergencies](https://buddywakefield.com/we-were-emergencies/)
> 
> “move forward  
> and repeat after me with your heart:  
> I no longer need you to fuck me as hard as I hated myself.  
> Make love to me  
> like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did.  
> Go slow.  
> I’m new to this,  
> but I have seen nearly every city from a rooftop  
> without jumping.”


End file.
